


Avocation

by enigmaticblue



Series: Avocation [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 42
Words: 129,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gypsies curse the wrong vampire, and by the time they rectify their mistake, Spike has been fundamentally altered. Nearly a century later, the Slayer needs help, and there’s only one person qualified for the job. Of course, he’s not real interested in taking it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally written and posted on my website about ten years ago. It's been cleaned up slightly.
> 
> I have a secret (or not-so-secret) weakness for early canon Spuffy fics. The only problem is that Spike is evil. No, really, he is. Which means that actually writing Spuffy pre-chip requires more suspension of disbelief than I can manage. Reading it is a different matter altogether. So, this is how I write early canon Spuffy. By altering events entirely. By the way, the title comes from a Robert Frost poem, “Two Tramps in Mud Time.” Pay special attention to the last stanza.

Spike tore another strip of cloth from the ragged shirt he’d removed. One of Angelus’ lay next to him, ready to be donned when he was finished bandaging his wounds.

 

There wouldn’t be much left of the old one by the time he was done.

 

“Spike—”

 

“Shut it.” His tone was hard. Spike didn’t care to hear what the other vampire had to say. Even though he knew what Angelus had to be suffering, he couldn’t say he felt much sympathy. He was simply glad that those stupid gypsies had finally caught up with the right vampire.

 

Angelus shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to make things right, but he didn’t know how. The guilt was overwhelming; he didn’t understand how Spike had lived with this for so long. “I could help,” he offered hesitantly.

 

Spike kept one wary eye on the other vampire and continued ministering to his own wounds. “Don’t want your help,” he growled.

 

Spike knew he would need blood soon. There was a part of him that wanted to make Angelus fetch it, knowing that the remorse the larger vampire felt would compel him to do so. A bigger part of him wanted to get as far away from his grandsire as possible.

 

Spike frowned, thinking. His best option would probably be to find a cow or some other large animal to drain. Of course, he would need to make certain that he wasn’t eating a pet or the only possession of some impoverished family. Spike hardly needed more guilt to add to what he was already experiencing.

 

Tying off the last bandage, Spike pulled the clean shirt over his head. It was too big for him, but at least it was in one piece. That was more than he could say for the old rag he’d been wearing.

 

“Spike—”

 

“Don’t!” Spike spat, turning, his teeth bared in a snarl. “If I never see you again, it’ll be too soon.”

 

Angelus shrank back, cowed by Spike’s ferocity and the new curse. After all, the younger vampire had had three years to get used to it.

 

Spike’s yellow eyes glittered in the darkness of the barn. The sun had finally gone down, and he could be rid of Angelus, hopefully for good. “I’m leaving. If you follow me, I’ll put a stake through you.”

 

Angelus stared at him. “Where will you go?”

 

“Wherever,” Spike said coldly. “Spent enough time tied down that I don’t think I’ll be staying in one place for a while.”

 

Angelus flinched at the unsubtle reminder. Darla and Drusilla had done their share of playing with Spike, but he had been the ringleader. He’d been the one most responsible for it, for keeping Spike around long after the girls had gotten tired of the games.

 

He might never have tired of it, except for the gypsies’ unquenchable thirst for vengeance. That had put an end to his fun.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Spike’s face melted into his human visage, in spite of his hunger, although his expression was just as fierce. In fact, Angelus found that Spike’s blue eyes provided even more of a reproach. “It’s done,” he said. “Stay out of my way.”

 

Spike turned his back, limping off into the night. With any luck, Angelus would either wait for a while before leaving the barn where they’d holed up for the day, or he would head in the opposite direction. As long as he didn’t have to deal with the bastard, Spike didn’t much care what option Angelus chose.

 

What no one had told him, what William had never known, was that you could kill love. Even the purest sort of love could be choked to death, could be starved. Spike had believed himself in love with Drusilla, even after Angelus had proven that he could take her away from him at any given moment.

 

Spike didn’t really blame Dru. It was how Angelus had made her.

 

From the moment the gypsies had taken their revenge out on the wrong vampire, until they had finally caught up with the Scourge of Europe once again three years later, Spike had had the opportunity to discover just what hell was. At first, he’d blamed Angelus for the torture. After all, the big vampire had thought it humorous that Spike had a soul, had thought the curse a good joke. Drusilla and Darla had simply followed suit.

 

When Drusilla seemed willing to help him escape, and then had revealed his plan to Angelus, however—when she had clapped her hands in glee at the punishment that followed—

 

Well, a man could only stand so much. Spike didn’t much care for betrayal, and so he’d discovered the hard way that love could die.

 

What Spike hadn’t yet figured out was that love could live again.


	2. Chapter 2

**“…But yield who will to their separation,/My object in living is to unite/My avocation and my vocation/As my two eyes make one in sight./Only where love and need are one,/And the work is play for mortal stakes,/Is the deed ever really done/For Heaven and the future’s sakes.” ~Robert Frost, “Two Tramps in Mud Time”**

 

Whistler wasn’t very happy with this assignment. Dragging Angel out of the gutter and getting him cleaned up had been bad enough. The last thing he wanted was to deal with the other souled vampire. The reports suggested that Spike was the more difficult of the two.

 

He had no desire to wind up dead.

 

The bar was loud and raucous, its denizens an odd mixture of humans and demons. This was a place where blood was frequently spilled, and where patrons often didn’t leave of their own accord.

 

The vampire in question was seated in a corner booth, watching the goings-on with an expression of sardonic amusement on his face. There was a pocket of calm around him, as though no one wanted to invade the space he’d designated as his own. Dangerous was one word for him, Whistler thought, remembering the warnings. He was certainly nothing like Angel.

 

Rumor had it, you didn’t mention Angel’s name around him if you wanted to live.

 

Whistler didn’t bother stopping by the bar, instead heading straight for the corner booth. “You’re Spike.”

 

“What of it?” The words came out in a low growl, with a barely concealed threat.

 

Whistler dropped into the seat across from him. “I’ve got a job for you.”

 

“Not interested,” Spike replied.

 

“I heard you’d work for a price.”

 

“Price is too high for you,” Spike replied. “Sod off.”

 

Whistler lowered his voice, knowing he was taking a gamble. “This is about revenge—on Angel.”

 

The change happened so quickly Whistler didn’t have time to brace himself. Spike’s hand shot across the table, grabbing the demon by his shirtfront and pulling him halfway out of his seat. Yellow eyes glowed in the dim light. “You don’t know me, so I’m going to let that pass,” Spike snarled. “Don’t say that name in my presence again.”

 

“You don’t want a chance to get even?” Whistler asked, careful not to repeat the forbidden name.

 

Spike sneered. “I am even. The bastard got cursed, didn’t he? Has to live with unending pain and torment? That’s enough. Don’t want to see his ugly face again.”

 

“He lost the soul.”

 

Spike blinked, releasing the demon abruptly. “What are you going on about then?”

 

Whistler smoothed down the front of his bright Hawaiian shirt, knowing that the worst was over if Spike started asking questions. He might manage to pull off this little assignment after all. “You know about the loophole.”

 

“Sure,” Spike replied. “One moment of happiness and the soul’s gone. What of it?”

 

“What do you think?”

 

“What?” Spike snorted. “That prat? Get a moment of happiness? What did he do? Find some brainless chit to fall in love with him?” At the expression on Whistler’s face, Spike started laughing. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

 

“I’m not. He’s planning on ending the world.”

 

That cut the laughter off quickly enough. Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Right, then. I’m interested. Who are you, and what do you want from me?”

 

“The name’s Whistler,” the demon replied, leaning back in his seat. “I work for the Powers.”

 

Spike chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, that’s rich. The Powers That Screw With You want my help to save the world? Forget it. Thanks for the laugh, mate.” He stood, tossing a few bills on the table and striding out of the bar.

 

Whistler hurried along in his wake, determined to get Spike to listen. “You’re needed, Spike.”

 

The vampire whirled to face him. “You’re pushing your luck. You don’t want to end up dead, leave me alone.”

 

“Angelus is going to end the world,” Whistler called after him. “And Drusilla is with him.”

 

Spike froze. He hadn’t heard that name in years. He’d have preferred to go through the rest of his unlife without being reminded of her. “What do you want from me?”

 

“The Slayer is trying to prevent him from opening Acathla and sucking the world into hell,” Whistler explained, catching up. “She can’t fight both of them on her own.”

 

“What’s in it for me?”

 

Whistler stared at him. “I would have thought that was obvious. You get to keep the world. I’ve heard you like it here.”

 

Spike shook his head. “I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve seen a lot of Slayers. They usually come out on top.”

 

“Not this time.”

 

“I’ll need something,” Spike said. “I’m not doing this for free. You just end up getting screwed over in the end.”

 

Whistler had been given instructions that should the vampire make demands, certain things could be done. “What do you want?”

 

Spike smirked. “You got a pen?”

 

~~~~~

 

He roared into town, feeling the vibration of the motor through the steering wheel. The old Mustang was exactly what he’d requested—classic, powerful, and speedy. Spike had the feeling that he probably could have asked for more. Either that or the Powers That Screw With You had known exactly what he wanted from them.

 

Spike rather hoped it was the former. He didn’t like the idea of anyone knowing what went on in his head.

 

In the end, he’d agreed to a lot more than just helping to save the world. They had wanted him to take Angel’s place and play the hero. Spike snorted, whipping the car around a corner with ease. He had refused, of course. Spike had no desire to emulate Angelus in any way.

 

Then Whistler had named a price, and Spike had agreed. Getting paid to save the world wasn’t a bad gig. Besides, as the demon had so astutely pointed out, he liked the world—spicy wings, dog races, Manchester United, and everything else.

 

What he had now was a picture of the Slayer, a few scant scraps of information about this Acathla, and a fat bank account.

 

Oh, and the promise of a battle ahead. That always put him in a good mood.

 

Whistler had told him where to find the Slayer and her friends. It seemed odd that their choice of headquarters would be a school library, but Spike didn’t much care. As long as he could locate the chit in time to keep his end of the deal, that was all that mattered.

 

Spike always kept his word—and he’d given his word that he’d make certain this Slayer survived. She had a destiny. It almost made Spike feel sorry for her.

 

Silent as a shadow, Spike stalked the school hallways. The scent that caught his attention was a familiar one, though not something he’d come across in almost a century. It had been a long time, but not long enough as far as he was concerned.

 

Grim-faced, Spike came in through the stacks, making sure to keep his footsteps silent. Drusilla was there, along with half a dozen minions. She was working her magic on a dark-skinned girl. Spike knew the chit didn’t have a prayer of surviving, but that didn’t much matter to him. She wasn’t the one he’d been paid to protect.

 

Of course, if he interrupted Drusilla’s thrall, she’d be pissed as hell, and it would probably throw her off for hours. So maybe he’d save this girl for free.

 

Spike swung himself over the railing, landing lightly and putting a stake through the nearest vampire. His sudden appearance had Drusilla looking towards him, breaking her concentration and freeing the girl from the vampiress’ hypnotic stare.

 

His actions indicated to the others in the room that he was on the humans’ side, and Drusilla’s minions instantly mobbed him. A manic grin grew on Spike’s face as a ducked one punch, whirling to put his stake through another vampire who had tried to sneak up behind him.

 

An older man picked up a crossbow and started firing, causing Spike to hope that he was a decent shot. The last thing he wanted was to be dusted by some middle aged librarian. The other humans, children really, were doing what they could against the few minions left.

 

Drusilla was screeching about her plans being ruined, and when the two minions left standing fled, Spike turned to her. “Been a while, Dru.”

 

“Bad Spike,” she hissed at him. “You’ve ruined all Daddy’s plans.”

 

Spike’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Oh, have I? I feel terrible about that.” He strode towards her. “Time to go, Dru.”

 

The crazy vampire turned just as Kendra was about to put a stake through her heart. “Don’t think so. You’ve still got to learn your lesson.”

 

Spike realized what she was going to do too late. In a flash, Drusilla had slashed Kendra’s throat with her fingernails, shoving her dying form into Spike’s arms and slowing him down. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, staring into the girl’s eyes, already glazing over in death.

 

Spike forced down his hunger at the scent of her blood. This wasn’t the Slayer he had been hired to help, but she was a Slayer, and the temptation was nearly too much for him to resist. There was no point in chasing Dru down at this point—she was quick and canny and he didn’t know the area as well as she did.

 

He felt the sharp point of something prick his back, right over his heart. “Put her down.”

 

Spike laid the girl’s body down carefully, not wanting to appear disrespectful, especially when he was in danger of being staked. He raised his hands, showing himself to be unarmed. “Not interested in fighting you.”

 

After a moment, the weapon was removed, and Spike slowly turned around to face the older man who had been wielding the crossbow. “Who are you?”

 

The voice was cold, and Spike was impressed in spite of himself. Unless he was greatly mistaken, this man was not just a librarian. “The name’s Spike. William the Bloody if you want to get real formal.”

 

He had the satisfaction of watching the man’s eyes widen. The crossbow dipped down. “I’ve heard of you,” he replied, a thin thread of respect running through his tone. “You were supposed to be a legend.”

 

Spike shrugged. “I’m real enough.”

 

“Giles?”

 

The redheaded girl spoke, anxiety writ large over her pale face. Her eyes kept darting from Giles to the vampire to the body of the Slayer. Giles glanced back at the girl. “Gather your supplies, Willow. Xander, help her. I imagine the police will be here soon enough.”

 

“Are we going to tell them the usual story?” the dark-haired boy asked, staring at Spike with ill-concealed suspicion.

 

Giles sighed. “What else would you suggest we tell them, Xander?” He turned his attention back to the vampire in front of him. Spike had brought his hands down and was busy lighting up a cigarette. “There’s no smoking in here,” Giles said sharply.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “And I care because? Look, Watcher, I’m here for your Slayer. Where is she?”

 

“Why should I tell you where Buffy is?”

 

“Because I’m being paid to make sure she stays in one piece,” Spike replied easily. “Can’t do that if the bint isn’t around, can I?”

 

Their eyes met, and a brief battle of wills commenced. Giles had heard of this vampire, but he was supposed to be a myth, a legend. The stories painted him as a mercenary, although one who was careful about the assignments he accepted. He was the vampire who didn’t kill humans. It was no wonder the Council had deemed the stories tall tales.

 

Giles’ jaw tightened. “She went out to meet Angel, although my guess is that it was a mere distraction to keep her from being here when Drusilla attacked. I’m not sure what they wanted.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Whatever it was, they didn’t get it. Slayer’ll be back soon enough, and then we can work on killing Angelus.”

 

“‘We?’” Xander demanded. “We don’t need your help.”

 

Spike smirked. “That right? It’s not what I heard.”

 

“Xander, do be quiet,” Giles ordered sharply. He turned to face Spike. “You shouldn’t be here when the police arrive. You’re the only person whose presence I cannot account for.”

 

The vampire nodded. “Fair enough.” He cocked his head to the side, listening. “Right on time,” he murmured. “I’ll be close.” Spike jumped up and over the railing that separated the lower level from the stacks with ease, startling Willow and another girl just coming out of hiding. He gave both of them a cocky grin and then disappeared as the police came storming through the doors.

 

Principal Snyder was there as well, shouting orders and questions indiscriminately, which Giles did his best to shield his students from, all the while wondering where his Slayer was.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy was heading towards the school at a dead run when she ran into a very solid someone. “There you are.”

 

She tensed, tearing herself away from the hands that had come to rest on her upper arms. The Slayer felt the tingle that told her the man was a vampire, and she reached for her stake. Buffy didn’t have time for this. Her friends—

 

“Your friends are fine,” the vampire said, apparently reading her mind. “Just came from the school. You’ll want to stay away until the cops are gone.”

 

Buffy backed up a couple steps, her hand clutching her stake tightly. “Who are you?”

 

“Name’s Spike.” She watched as he smiled, amused, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. “I came to help you fight Angelus.”

 

Buffy shook her head in disbelief. “I’m supposed to believe you?” she demanded. “Sorry, but I don’t make it a habit of working with vampires.”

 

“Even souled ones?”

 

“Especially souled ones,” Buffy snarled in reply. She really didn’t have time for this. She had every intention of dodging him, checking on Giles and the others, and then figuring out how she was going to keep Angel from killing her and her friends.

 

“You won’t be able to stop him,” the vampire called after her. “Not when he’s got Dru with him. I should know. I’ve tried.”

 

She stopped. “Where are they? If you can take me to them—”

 

“Told you. Cops. Your Watcher told me to get out so he didn’t have to explain me being there.”

 

There was no way she could trust him. He was a vampire, and Buffy had learned the hard way what happened when you trusted a vampire.

 

No, that wasn’t right. She’d learned what sleeping with a vampire brought. “What do you want?”

 

“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow. “I want to help you stop Angelus from sucking the world into hell. You want me to draw a diagram?”

 

Buffy glared at him, contemplating staking him just because he was annoying. “How do I know you’re not leading me into a trap?” she demanded.

 

He shrugged. “You don’t. If we can find your Watcher, he’ll vouch for me, though. After all, I was the one who made sure Dru and her minions didn’t kill your friends.”

 

“Fine.” Buffy shrugged her shoulders, trying to release some of the tension that seemed to have taken up permanent residence there. “Let’s go.”

 

The school was still swarming with cops when they arrived, and Spike quickly took her arm, leading her past. “You want to try and look helpless?” he suggested in a low voice.

 

“What?”

 

“Try to look less like we’re casing the joint and more like we’re out for a stroll,” Spike suggested, his tone dry. “Bloody hell, Slayer. I’d almost think you were new on the job.”

 

“Shut up.” Buffy shrugged off his hand, trying not to make it so obvious. Spike adjusted his grip but didn’t let go. “Get your hands off me,” she hissed.

 

Spike stopped dead in his tracks. “You know what? Nothing is worth this hassle. You want to act like such a bitch, you can deal with Angelus on your own.”

 

Buffy watched as he stalked away, and she felt a sinking sensation. He was right, even though she would never admit it out loud. She knew that there was no way she could take both Angelus and Drusilla on her own. “Wait! Spike!”

 

He stopped, and then turned, meeting her eyes with a hard expression. Raising an eyebrow, he waited for her to catch up. “Ready to play nice?”

 

“Answer my question first,” she challenged.

 

Spike shrugged. “Ask away.”

 

“Why help me?”

 

“Revenge.” He gave her a crooked smile. “That and I’m getting paid.”

 

“By who?”

 

“The Powers That Screw With You.” Spike sighed. “Look, pet, we don’t have time for this. I promise, if we make it through this, I’ll let you buy me a drink and then I’ll explain.”

 

Buffy wasn’t satisfied, but she knew that was all she was going to get out of him. “Fine. Where are Giles and the others?”

 

He shrugged. “Dunno. Depends on if the cops have let them go or not. You got a meeting place other than the library?”

 

“How did you know about the library?” Buffy demanded.

 

Spike rolled his eyes. “The sodding Powers. Have you not been listening?” Buffy scowled. She knew she was being obtuse, but she was exhausted, and Angel had really pissed her off. “Slayer, I know this isn’t easy, but let’s at least try to work together, shall we?”

 

His tone was almost gentle, and she sighed. Whoever this vampire was, whatever he really wanted, Buffy knew she didn’t have much choice.

 

Spike was all she had at the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**“Pain has an element of blank;/It cannot recollect/When it began, or if there were/A day when it was not./It has no future but itself,/Its infinite realms contain/Its past, enlightened to perceive/New periods of pain.” ~Emily Dickinson**

 

Buffy finally decided to call Giles first, wanting to be sure he was home before heading to his apartment. After the seventh ring, she hung up. “They aren’t there.”

 

“You got another meeting place in mind?”

 

Buffy frowned, considering her options. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure they’d go there.”

 

“So what’s the plan?”

 

“I thought you were the one with the big plan.”

 

“No,” Spike said, his voice dripping with exaggerated patience. “You’re the Slayer. You know this town better than I do. You know where Angelus and Drusilla are. I came to make sure you survived and they didn’t.”

 

When he put it that way, Buffy couldn’t really argue. “My house to get weapons,” she decided. “We can call Giles from there.”

 

“Lead on, pet.”

 

They walked in silence, Buffy stealing occasional looks at the vampire. He wasn’t very tall; Angel was at least a head taller. He was on the thin side, and he looked like a punk with his disheveled, bleached hair and black leather jacket and black jeans.

 

“I don’t get it.”

 

Spike glanced over at her. “What don’t you get?”

 

“You’re a vampire.”

 

“Yeah.” This was said slowly, with the sort of inflection that told Buffy he thought she was being stupid.

 

“You’re helping me.”

 

“If it makes you feel better, I’m doing this because I want revenge and I’ve been waiting about a century for the right time to take it.” Spike shrugged. “This is just convenient.”

 

“So you don’t really want to save the world?”

 

Spike snorted. “Of course I want to save the world. I don’t know what Angelus is thinking. If he sucks the world into hell, there certainly won’t be anything for him to eat.”

 

Buffy blinked. Put that way, Angelus was really stupid. “You’re doing this because you don’t want to lose your food supply.”

 

Spike caught the hint of disgust in her voice. “Well, yeah. Although, it’s not quite like that. I haven’t been on a people-diet for years. The world goes to hell, and a lot of other decent things go too, things I happen to like. So really, I’m just a selfish bloke with an itch for payback.”

 

The Slayer wasn’t sure she believed him, but she didn’t have time to ferret out the truth. Or what passed for the truth with a vampire.

 

Buffy was feeling rather anti-undead at the moment.

 

They were approaching her house now, and Buffy was really hoping that her mom would be gone. Ever since Angel had shown up at her house and told her mom that she’d slept with him, things had been rather strained. Turning up with another guy in tow, another obviously-older guy, was not going to make things any better.

 

No such luck.

 

Buffy was still trying to decide whether or not she wanted to invite Spike inside when her mom opened the front door. “Buffy? I thought you were staying at Willow’s tonight.”

 

Caught in a lie, Buffy could only make the best of the situation. “I forgot some stuff.”

 

Joyce frowned, obviously not buying it. “Yes, well, Mr. Giles just called. He wanted you to call him back when you got home. I told him you were at Willow’s, but—” She stopped, catching sight of Spike. “Who’s your friend?”

 

The question was asked in the sort of tone that told Buffy that her mom wasn’t going to believe anything she said. “This is—”

 

“William Brighton.” Spike was suddenly on the porch next to her, holding out a hand for Joyce to shake. “I ran into your daughter and insisted on walking her home. You never know what can be hiding in the shadows, you know.”

 

The voice and accent he used for her mom was more polished, all charm. Although Joyce still appeared skeptical, Buffy could see some of the suspicion dissipating. “And you know Buffy how?”

 

“Through my uncle,” Spike replied easily. “I’m in town visiting.”

 

“Giles, Mom,” Buffy quickly explained, catching on to Spike’s story. She had to admit that it was a pretty decent lie, and one that her mom wouldn’t have any trouble believing. “Sp—William is Giles’ nephew.”

 

All suspicion drained away, and Joyce looked relieved. “Oh, well, it was so nice of you to walk Buffy home, William.”

 

“My pleasure, Mrs. Summers,” Spike replied easily, as though he made a habit of charming parents of girls all the time. For all Buffy knew, he did, right before he ate the whole family.

 

“I should get my stuff,” she said quickly. “I wouldn’t want to keep Willow waiting.”

 

Buffy was about to head inside—without inviting Spike—when the vampire called out a warning. “Slayer!”

 

She felt the attack coming, and whirled to meet the vampire coming out of the shadows. Spike grabbed the creature by the collar of its jacket, jerking it back and giving Buffy a chance to use her stake. A split second later and it was gone, just dust floating on the wind.

 

Joyce stood with her mouth hanging open, staring at the empty space where the vampire had been. “What—Buffy, that man—did he just turn to dust?”

 

Spike cocked an eyebrow, looking over at her. “Your mum doesn’t know?”

 

Buffy scowled at his amused tone. “No.”

 

“Buffy?” Joyce had recovered enough from her shock so that her tone was sharper now, impatient with her daughter’s lack of response.

 

“He was a vampire, Mom,” she said. “I’m a vampire Slayer. It’s what I do.”

 

Joyce shook her head, unwilling to buy into it. “Buffy, that’s nonsense. There must be some other explanation.”

 

Buffy ran a hand through her hair. She was just as impatient, although that was because she needed to get her supplies and then get to the others. She wanted to talk to Giles about her companion, and she wanted to kill Angel. “There isn’t, Mom. I don’t have time for this now.”

 

“You get your stuff, I’ll explain,” Spike said. His tone of voice told the Slayer that he was still getting a great deal of enjoyment out of this scenario, which didn’t endear him to her. On the other hand, if he could explain things to her mother, that would speed up the process.

 

“Fine.” Buffy sighed. “You explain. Come in, Spike.” She ran up the stairs, hoping that she wasn’t making some huge mistake.

 

She couldn’t afford another mistake.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike watched as the older woman stared after her daughter’s retreating figure. “Why don’t we sit down?” he suggested.

 

Joyce shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

 

“It’s a bit much,” he agreed. Spike watched her carefully, not quite sure why he was the one who got stuck with this task. Placating the Slayer’s mom was definitely not in the job description Whistler had given him, but he was used to this sort of thing. No matter how carefully a job might be planned out, there were always problems.

 

Joyce sat obediently. “You knew about all this?”

 

Spike contemplated changing. It would probably scare the hell out of her, which could be funny, but something held him back. Some remnant of William reminded him that Joyce was a lady, and an innocent. “Yeah, for a while now.”

 

She set her jaw. “Well, Buffy will just have to stop.”

 

Spike couldn’t help himself; he started chuckling. “Sorry, ducks, but it’s not that simple. Slayers don’t get to quit. That’s not the way things work.”

 

Joyce blinked. “Can’t I do something? Talk to someone?”

 

“Take it up with the Fates, Mrs. Summers,” Spike replied quietly. “We don’t have a choice when destiny is involved.”

 

Buffy reappeared in the living room. “Let’s go,” she said. “I’ve already called Giles, and he’s expecting us.”

 

Spike stood. “Right behind you, Slayer.”

 

Joyce stood again. “Buffy, what are you doing?”

 

“I’m saving the world, Mom,” Buffy replied.

 

Joyce shook her head, feeling the need to pull the parent-card. “You can’t. You are not leaving this house until you explain what’s going on.”

 

“No, Mom, this is what you don’t understand. I don’t have time to have a mother-daughter chat with you because my ex-boyfriend is trying to suck the world into hell. If I don’t stop him, having this conversation isn’t going to do either of us any good.”

 

They faced off, and Spike watched, some forgotten emotion welling up in his chest. He felt—was it compassion? He generally tried to avoid feeling things like that.

 

Spike generally tried to avoid feeling, period.

 

“We should go.”

 

Buffy glanced over at him, and she realized that he was no longer amused. In fact, there was something akin to sympathy in his eyes. “Let’s go.” She tossed the duffel bag with her weapons in it at him. Spike caught it easily and started towards the front door.

 

“You aren’t leaving this house!”

 

Her mother’s voice was desperate, and Buffy could hear the fear. “I have to.”

 

She didn’t allow her mom to say anything more. Instead, she was out the door, Spike on her heels, as she went towards Giles’ place. They were about a block away when she shot a glare at the vampire at her side. “You didn’t tell me about Kendra.”

 

Spike frowned. “Who’s—the other Slayer.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me she was dead?”

 

“Would it have made a difference?” he asked.

 

Buffy’s jaw clenched. “No, but you should have told me.”

 

“Why?” Spike asked. “And when? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a bit of a crisis situation at the moment. There wasn’t exactly time to run through a list of casualties with you.”

 

Buffy decided to let it go. She’d kick his ass for not mentioning Kendra’s death later. “Giles said you saved their lives.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Seemed like the thing to do.”

 

“He also said you did this kind of thing a lot. That you were a mercenary.”

 

“That’s one way of describing what I do,” Spike admitted cheerfully. “I’ve been put on retainer, though, so I won’t be looking for a new job for a while.” He grinned. “May not have to work again if I don’t want to.”

 

Buffy huffed. “Great. That’s just great. I have to save the world because it’s my destiny, and you’re getting paid.”

 

“You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t shagged Angelus,” Spike pointed out. He wasn’t sure why he said it, knowing that the words would cut, but he said it anyway. After having seen his sire for the first time in decades, and now with the imminent confrontation with Angelus around the corner, Spike wasn’t inclined to be nice.

 

He just managed to block the punch that Buffy threw at his face. “You’re a pig, Spike.”

 

“That right?” Spike sneered.

 

“You—” She broke off and started walking again. Spike followed behind, keeping a steady pace but not bothering to catch up. Buffy came to a halt outside a group of apartments. Turning to face him, she said, “Please give me a reason to stake you.”

 

For a second, Buffy almost thought he would do it, and then something in his eyes changed. “We’ve both been burned by Angelus, pet.”

 

She scoffed. “You’re a vampire. What could he have done to you that was so bad?”

 

“Not what did he do,” Spike corrected her, his voice quiet. “It’s what didn’t he do.” He looked at the door they were standing in front of. “You want to knock, or shall I?”

 

Buffy hesitated, then finally rapped on the wood without replying. She didn’t understand her companion, and she didn’t know how to deal with him. There was no time for her to dig the answers out of him either.

 

Giles opened the door, waving them inside. “Come in, both of you,” he said. “I called as soon as the police allowed us to leave.”

 

Xander, Willow, and Cordelia were all perched around his living room, looking at Buffy’s companion curiously. “You okay, Buffy?” Willow asked, sounding timid.

 

“I’m fine,” Buffy replied, sparing her friend a smile. “What’s the what, Giles? Kendra—”

 

“There was nothing anyone could do, I’m afraid,” her Watcher said, pulling off his glasses and polishing the lenses. “Drusilla is a formidable opponent.”

 

“I’m sorry.” This came from Spike, although he wasn’t speaking to Buffy, but rather to Giles.

 

Giles cleared his throat. “Yes, well, if not for you, we don’t know what Drusilla would have been able to do.”

 

“We have to do this, Giles,” Buffy said. “Tonight.”

 

“I won’t disagree,” he replied.

 

“Are you going to kill him, Buffy?” Xander asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

 

Buffy shook her head. “Only if I have to. Will, can you do the curse?”

 

“I can try,” Willow replied. “I don’t know.”

 

“You’re going to try and curse him again?” Spike asked, sounding almost disappointed. “I thought that spell had been lost.”

 

Giles winced. “No. Not entirely,” he said softly.

 

“So now what?” Cordelia asked.

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “So now you guys try and do the spell on Angel. I’ll try and keep him busy until you can finish it, but—”

 

“Buffy—”

 

She met her Watcher’s eyes. “I’m ready, Giles. I’ll do what I have to do.” Looking over at Spike, Buffy pulled Giles over to one side of the room. “Can I really trust him?”

 

“He’s a legend, Buffy,” Giles replied. “I don’t know. What I do know is that he most likely saved our lives. He tried to save Kendra.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Why didn’t Angel ever mention him?” she asked. “He always made it sound like he was the only…” She trailed off, unable to complete the thought.

 

“It’s difficult to say,” Giles replied, lowering his voice further. “Rumor has it that Spike is somehow related to Angelus and Drusilla, although no one is sure how. Perhaps Angel is ashamed, as he was of his connection to Drusilla.”

 

Buffy sighed. “Well, with any luck, I’ll get a chance to ask him.”

 

“Be careful, Buffy.”

 

“Always.”

 

They shared a look that said more than words ever could.

 

“Time’s a-ticking,” Spike said.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Are you sure I can’t stake him?”

 

Giles smiled. “Why don’t you wait until after you’ve taken care of Angelus?”

 

“Let’s go, Bleach-Boy,” Buffy said.

 

Spike shrugged. “After you, Slayer.”

 

After the door had closed behind them, Xander looked at Giles. “How can we trust another vampire, Giles?”

 

Giles shook his head. “You don’t understand, Xander. There are stories—” He sighed. “Willow, do you need any help setting up?”

 

She shook her head. “I think I’ve got it under control.” She gave the Watcher an anxious look. “Is Buffy going to be alright?”

 

“I don’t know, Willow,” Giles murmured, staring at the door. “I really don’t know.”


	4. Chapter 4

**“Why should I blame her that she filled my days/With misery, or that she would of late/ Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,/Or hurled the little streets upon the great,/ Had they but courage equal to desire?/What could have made her peaceful with a mind/ That nobleness made simple as a fire,/With beauty like a tightened bow…” ~W. B. Yeats, “No Second Troy**

 

“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” Spike muttered as the mansion came in sight. Angelus always had been a pretentious bastard, and it looked like he hadn’t changed much over the years.

 

Buffy looked over at him sharply. “What?”

 

Spike shrugged. “He always did have to have the bloody best.”

 

“Wait.” Buffy put a hand on Spike’s arm, stopping his progress. “When we get in there—are you ready to kill them?”

 

“Oh, I have no problem dusting either or both of them, pet,” he said, his eyes hard. “Better question is if you have a problem.”

 

“If we can do the restoration spell—”

 

“What?” Spike asked. “Everything will go back to normal?”

 

“No, but—” Buffy broke off. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

 

“I can’t understand the fact that you still love him, is that it?” His voice was no more than a whisper, but Buffy’s head jerked back as though she’d been struck. “Let me tell you something, Slayer. I loved Dru with my whole being. Loved her more than my own unlife.”

 

“And now you’re willing to stake her.” Buffy said it as though it proved her point, as though the fact that Spike was ready to kill the vampiress disproved his feelings for her.

 

Spike grinned, but there was no humor in it. “Let me assure you that whatever torture Angelus managed to devise in the last few months is nothing compared to enduring three years of it, with the woman you love as a willing participant.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened as she realized exactly what he was saying. “I don’t—”

 

“I’ll take care of Drusilla,” Spike said, completely business-like, as though they’d never gotten off track. “Don’t think her thrall works on me, and if it does, I’m ready for it anyway. He’ll have minions—he always does. I figure we can split those up pretty evenly. You’ll have to decide what you want to do about Angelus. You want me to do him for you, just let me know. I’ll be happy to oblige.”

 

Buffy shook her head, swallowing hard. “No. No, if—if it comes to that, it should be me.”

 

Spike met her eyes. “Right, then. In we go.”

 

Buffy paused only to pull the sword Kendra had given her out of the bag. Giles had kept it safe from the police. She stuck a couple extra stakes in her pockets and then watched as Spike rifled through the bag for a few stakes of his own.

 

Not another word was spoken. Everything had been said that needed to be said. Buffy had no idea how she’d wound up with another vampire as a companion, but there was something about Spike that made her feel just a little safer than she would have if she’d gone in by herself. It wasn’t trust—she didn’t trust him.

 

But he was dangerous, and right now he was on her side. There was something to be said for that.

 

They entered the mansion with as much stealth as possible, Buffy staking the lone vampire on guard from behind. Angelus was pacing up and down in front of Acathla. The sword was still firmly in place, and Drusilla was standing close by him, wringing her hands and muttering about everything going wrong. Spike glanced over, and he could see the relief in Buffy’s eyes. He knew she was going to try and wait for the spell to be cast.

 

He nodded once, and then they burst out of hiding.

 

Under different circumstances, Spike would have taken a moment to admire the Slayer’s form and grace. She was a phenomenal fighter, both creative and intuitive. As it was, he barely had time to notice that they fought quite well together before he found himself face to face with Drusilla.

 

“H’lo, Dru.”

 

“You reek of goodness,” she spat.

 

Spike gave her a thin smile. “We all have our faults.”

 

“You were to be my brave knight! You don’t love mummy anymore!” She took a swipe at him with her fingernails, which Spike ducked. He was circling her, keeping a wary eye out for the Slayer and Angelus.

 

Then Drusilla attacked him in a full-out assault, forcing Spike to keep his entire attention on his insane sire. Drusilla was out for his blood, and she could be formidable in a fight when she was truly riled up.

 

Whatever Spike had told Buffy before entering the mansion, he wasn’t quite as ready to dust Dru as he had said. No matter that he didn’t love her any longer; she was his sire. She had been the one to save him from a life as William.

 

There was a piece of him that still loved her just a little bit for that.

 

The rest of him remembered her laughter as Angelus tortured him for hours after his unsuccessful escape attempt.

 

Spike dodged another blow but couldn’t pull himself out of reach of her claws. They tore through the fabric of his shirt where his jacket gaped open, drawing blood. Spike hissed in pain and then quickly backhanded her. She screeched, and he turned in a tight circle, hitting her square in the chest with the stake in his left hand.

 

She stared at him in shock, whispering, “William,” as she turned to dust.

 

Standing frozen for a moment, Spike quickly looked around. The minions were gone, either dusted or fled, and all he could hear was the sound of swords clashing. He ran to the door leading out to the courtyard, watching as Buffy and Angelus dueled.

 

It was a furious fight, Buffy’s sword a silver blur in the pre-dawn light, clashing with the long poker Angelus was wielding. Spike could see the concentration on the Slayer’s face. She had the disadvantage, since she wasn’t nearly as willing to kill Angelus as the vampire was to kill her.

 

Briefly, Spike considered stepping in, staking his grandsire if the Slayer wouldn’t. He held himself back, however, understanding that this was something the girl would have to do herself. Spike would save her if he could, but he wouldn’t make this decision for her.

 

Watching from the outside as he was, Spike could see the turning point in the battle. There was always a moment when things could go either way, when you had no choice but to kill your opponent lest you be killed yourself. Spike saw it—and like the Slayer she was, Buffy took her opening, ramming the sword through Angelus’ chest.

 

The vampire grimaced, and then his eyes narrowed, became yellow. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he rasped, pulling the sword out of his chest. Angelus leapt for her, fully intending on sinking his fangs into Buffy’s throat.

 

Buffy met him halfway with a stake.

 

She stood for some minutes, staring at the pile of dust on the ground, taking a deep breath to hold the tears at bay.

 

“Slayer?” Spike called.

 

She held out a hand in warning. “Stay away from me, Spike.”

 

“You did what you had to do.”

 

“Stay away!” She was nearly screaming, staring at him with wide eyes. “Just—stay away!”

 

If he had been a different man, Spike might have ignored her warning. He might have gone to her, tried to hold her. He might have gotten a stake through the heart for his troubles—or something else altogether.

 

Spike respected the fact that Buffy wanted to mourn on her own, though, and he nodded shortly. “I’ll see you around, Slayer.”

 

“Get out of town, Spike!” she warned him, grief making her angry and combative.

 

He smirked at her over his shoulder. “Sorry, Slayer. I still have a job.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike pushed all thoughts of Buffy out of his mind as he sprinted out of the mansion. He would need to hurry if he wanted to get back to the Watcher’s flat before the sun made the journey deadly.

 

If the truth were to be told, the Slayer’s grief hit far too close to home. Spike was trying not to think about the fact that the last links to his past were dust on the wind. He was finally free of them.

 

Spike wondered why he didn’t feel happier about that.

 

The first true rays of the morning were creeping out over the horizon, causing Spike to curse his stupidity. He should have insisted on driving to the mansion, but when he’d suggested it, the Slayer had flatly refused to get in a car with him. “Stupid bint,” he muttered as he skidded to a stop in the Watcher’s courtyard.

 

Spike rapped sharply on the door, slipping inside as soon as the door was open, before Giles could ask any questions. “Where is Buffy?”

 

The vampire shrugged. “She’s fine.”

 

“Where is she?” Giles grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him up against the closed door. “Spike, if you left her to—”

 

“I left before I got stuck in that damn mansion all day!” Spike shot back, grief causing his mask of indifference to drop. “Angelus and Drusilla are dead. The Slayer told me to get out, so I did.”

 

“Is she okay?” the redhead asked.

 

Spike shook his head. “She didn’t get hurt. As for whether or not she’s okay, that’s not something I’m in a position to judge. Bloody hell, I don’t know. She was trying to keep him occupied so the spell—” Spike broke off. He wasn’t entirely sorry that Angelus was dead, and then again he was. The confused mix of emotions irritated him. “Did it work?”

 

“Did what work?” Giles asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

Spike snorted. “Did the sodding curse work?”

 

“I—I don’t know,” Willow replied for the group. “I felt the power go in, but then it just fizzled.”

 

The vampire sighed. “You might not want to mention that to the Slayer, ducks.”

 

“What are you still doing here?” Xander asked.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “What?”

 

“What are you still doing here?” Xander persisted. “You got what you came for. Why aren’t you leaving?”

 

“Because I didn’t get what I came for, you git,” Spike retorted. “I got paid to do a job, and I gave my word. I’m staying. Get used to it.”

 

Giles sank down on the couch wearily. “What job, Spike?”

 

“Stay and help the Slayer through the next apocalypse,” he said glibly. “Apparently, there was supposed to be a souled vampire here to help. It was very important, and then it all got shot to hell.” He gave them a thin, humorless smile. “I’m the second-string hero.”

 

Giles shook his head. “And how do you know that your presence won’t make it worse?” he asked. “What if you lose your soul just as Angel did?”

 

Spike grinned. “Because I’m not a complete idiot, Watcher. My soul is my own. It’s not going anywhere.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy trudged home, her feet feeling like leaden weights. She didn’t particularly want to go home, but where else was there to go? She knew her mom would be full of questions. Heck, Buffy figured she was probably going to be grounded into the next century for leaving the house like she did.

 

Somehow she couldn’t work up the energy to care.

 

Angel was gone.

 

It seemed impossible; he had been such a big part of her world. It was like everything had gone gray, because Angel wouldn’t be coming back. Buffy had believed she was ready for him to be gone, but she’d been deluding herself. Secretly, she had hoped that one day _her_ Angel would return.

 

Instead, she’d had to kill him, and in his place was that bleach-blond idiot. Buffy felt a spark of guilt. Spike had helped. Taking on both Drusilla and Angelus would have been suicide. If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d felt some pain at their deaths. It didn’t matter, though. Spike was a poor substitute for Angel.

 

Buffy slipped through the back door, hoping that her mom would be in bed. Maybe she could be asleep by the time Joyce woke, and she could avoid the confrontation she knew was coming.

 

“Buffy?”

 

She stopped short, staring at her mother. Joyce was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, dressed in a robe. From her mother’s eyes, Buffy could tell that she’d been waiting up all night for her to return. “Mom, I don’t—”

 

“Are you okay?” The argument from the night before faded in Joyce’s mind as she met Buffy’s eyes. There was more pain there than Joyce had ever wanted to see.

 

Against her mother’s question, Buffy had no shield. She had held the tears at bay up until that moment, but grief suddenly overwhelmed her. Shaking her head, Buffy’s face crumpled. Joyce rushed forward, hugging her daughter.

 

Joyce didn’t understand what it meant that Buffy was the Slayer. She didn’t understand why Buffy couldn’t just stop being the Slayer. What she did understand was that her daughter was in pain. Nothing else mattered at the moment.

 

She rocked Buffy in her arms as she had not done in a long time. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Joyce murmured. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

 

A mother’s promises were all that Joyce could offer.

 

~~~~~

 

“Would you like a drink?” Giles asked. He had finally sent the others home. Giles knew that Spike probably expected to stay on his couch for the day, and he had decided not to begrudge him a place to sleep. After all, Spike’s presence had most likely kept Buffy in one piece.

 

“Little early, isn’t it?” Spike asked with some amusement.

 

Giles smiled. “Perhaps. But since I didn’t sleep, I’m going to say that it’s rather late.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, taking the proffered glass with a sigh of relief. “Ta, mate.”

 

Giles sat down on the couch, watching Spike sip. He hadn’t said much more about the soul, other than there was no danger of him losing it. Giles had a hundred questions, and yet he was bone-weary. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to start the interview now or wait.

 

“Spit it out.” Spike’s eyes were closed, and his head was tipped back, resting against the chair.

 

Giles took a deep breath. “Why is it that you won’t lose your soul?”

 

“Because if there’s one thing I’m not it’s stupid,” was Spike’s rejoinder. “I wanted to know exactly what I had been cursed with, and so I did a little digging. If Angelus hadn’t been so busy brooding, he might have done the same.”

 

“So you discovered the loophole,” Giles mused. “That still doesn’t explain why you would take steps to ensure that you didn’t lose the soul. I would have thought you would want to get rid of it.”

 

“What? So I could kill more people?” Spike asked. “So that the three years I spent—” He broke off, unwilling to talk about that aspect of his past. “No. The soul was mine. I didn’t want to lose it because the blasted gypsies were idiots.”

 

Spike’s words were clipped, almost angry, and it caused Giles to watch him thoughtfully. Spike was shaping up to be an enigma. “You got it anchored.”

 

“I did.” Spike snorted. “After I got it made permanent, the guilt got more manageable, too, which just proves that it was part of the curse.” He rolled his eyes. “Stupid, ignorant fools. They wanted to make Angelus suffer, and they didn’t care how it got done.”

 

There was a pause and then Spike continued. “Angelus was always about the planning, you know. Sometimes I thought the wanker was more into the preparation than the actual kill. Always thinking about the future or the past. I’ve always been of the opinion that you should live for the present. Doesn’t take much to make me happy, yeah?”

 

Giles nodded slowly in understanding. It would have been much easier for Spike to lose his soul than it would have been for Angel. “I’ll want to talk to you about this some more.”

 

“I figured that,” Spike replied. “I won’t promise to answer your questions, Watcher, but I’ll tell you what I can.”

 

“In exchange for shelter?”

 

Spike smiled. “For now. I’ll be looking for my own place, though. I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

 

“Spike?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Spike looked at him sharply and then shrugged. “It’s what I’m getting paid for.”

 

Giles wasn’t so sure that was the only explanation for things.


	5. Chapter 5

**“A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,/That sat it down to rest,/Nor noticed that the ebbing day/Flowed silver to the west,/Nor noticed night did soft descend/Nor constellation burn,/ Intent upon the vision/Of latitudes unknown…” ~Emily Dickinson, XLIX**

 

For a brief moment after waking, Buffy didn’t remember. The first thought that went through her mind, as had been the case for weeks, was what she was going to do about Angel. It was only then that she remembered.

 

She rolled over in her bed, pulling the pillow over her head. She had dreamed of him—dreamed that she and Angel were standing on a beach in the sunlight. He had put his arms around her and told her that he would love her forever.

 

The thought ran through her head that Angel had been a liar. Surely if he had really loved her the soul wouldn’t have mattered so much.

 

Buffy squashed that thought ruthlessly. Angel had loved her; she was certain of it. She had loved Angel, and Angel was the one with a soul.

 

The phone was ringing, but Buffy had no desire to answer it. It stopped after two rings, which let Buffy know that her mom was home. She wasn’t sure whether or not to be happy about that. On the one hand, her mom might be inclined to spoil her a little. On the other, the Slayer really didn’t want to deal with the questions she knew were coming.

 

“Buffy? It’s Mr. Giles.” Joyce had let her daughter sleep late, but it was now early afternoon, and Giles had been very intent on speaking with her. While she had questions, Joyce was willing to wait for answers—at least for now. She thought perhaps that Buffy wouldn’t be the one to ask anyway. Mr. Giles, or even his nephew, would be better.

 

Buffy groaned. “I don’t want to talk to anybody.”

 

“He says he needs to speak with you.”

 

Buffy’s head emerged from under the pillow. She winced from the light entering the room. Her eyes were sore and probably puffy from tears and lack of sleep. “Fine.”

 

Joyce handed her the phone and left the room, stopping just outside the door so she could listen in on the conversation. It probably wasn’t the best etiquette, but she was beginning to think it was the only way to know what was going on in her daughter’s life.

 

“What is it, Giles?”

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Buffy felt a flush of guilt for her shortness at the concern in his voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. You know what happened?”

 

“Spike told us this morning when he returned.” Giles was quiet. “I’m very sorry, Buffy.”

 

Buffy knew he wasn’t, not really. How could Giles be sorry when Angelus had killed Jenny? She understood that Giles was just saying that because he was sorry she was in pain. “I’m okay.”

 

He didn’t question her assertion. “Of course. Will you be over later this evening?”

 

Glancing at the clock, Buffy realized that it was much later than she’d thought. “Sure. I’d better patrol tonight anyway. I’m sure Drusilla and—and Angelus left us with plenty to clean up.”

 

“Then I’ll see you later.”

 

Buffy hung up the phone, taking in a deep breath. She hadn’t been ready for this, but that didn’t matter, because Angel was gone. He was never coming back. She’d better just get used to that.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike woke from his nightmare with a snarl, his gold-green eyes glowing in the dim light of the living room. Giles was slightly taken aback, and he stilled, waiting for him to fully waken, hoping that Spike wasn’t going to attack.

 

A moment later, he was looking into a pair of confused blue eyes. “What—” Spike shook his head. “Sorry about that,” he muttered.

 

“A bad dream?” Giles asked, having had a few of those himself.

 

Spike shrugged. “The past haunts you, yeah? There’s nothing you can do about it.”

 

“Would you like something to eat? I took the liberty of getting some blood for you. I wasn’t sure—”

 

“Anything will do,” Spike said, pushing himself off the couch. “I’m not picky.”

 

Spike had forgotten. He did that sometimes, simply because mirrors didn’t work for him. A few times in the past, he’d had companions who would comment, but most of the time they weren’t looking at him—not really. The women he spent time with wanted nothing more than a quick shag; Spike made certain of it.

 

He remembered now because he’d taken off his shirt to sleep, and he could hear Giles pull in a quick breath behind him. “Good Lord,” Giles muttered. “What—”

 

“Angelus.”

 

One word was all it took, and Spike quickly pulled his shirt over his head, hiding the scars. It wasn’t easy to scar a vampire, but it could be done. From what others had told him, the network of scars over his back was extensive. He didn’t blame Giles for being shocked.

 

“I don’t understand,” Giles said. “I realize that both you and he received your souls from the gypsies, but—”

 

Spike shook his head. “They screwed up. Cursed the wrong vampire. I’m not saying I was a saint, but they were aiming for Angelus and they missed. He thought me having my soul was funny. The bastard always did have a twisted sense of humor.” Spike wanted to change the subject. “You said something about eating?”

 

“In the fridge,” Giles replied, watching Spike with more interest. “How long had you been a vampire before you got your soul?”

 

“Almost twenty years,” Spike replied off-handedly, pulling the container of blood out and beginning to drink it cold. He preferred it warmed up, but he was too hungry to take the time. That had been part of his dream—the hunger. Angelus had often prevented him from feeding until he was ravenous and then—

 

Spike closed his eyes, grateful that his back was to the Watcher. He pushed back the memories.

 

“And after?”

 

He laughed, but the sound was bitter. “What does a vampire who won’t eat people do, Watcher? Tell me that. I did what I could. Made the best out of a bloody bad situation. What the hell else do you want me to say?” Spike glanced out the window. It would be hours yet before he could get his car and then start looking for a place to live.

 

Spike had money now. He could find an apartment of some kind, or a house. Or, he could do what most vampires did and find a crypt or a similar hole in the ground. Somehow, Spike rather liked the idea of something a little more classy, although not pretentious.

 

He refused to be anything like his grandsire.

 

“Why are you here, Spike?”

 

The question was almost gentle. There had been precious little gentility in his life the last few years. Scratch that. The last few decades.

 

“Got an offer I couldn’t refuse, didn’t I?” Spike asked, his tone thoughtful. “Save the world, bugger Angelus, get enough dosh to set myself up. Get a decent ride.” He turned, giving Giles a quick grin. “It was the car that decided me.”

 

“I haven’t seen it,” Giles replied, entranced by Spike’s quick changes in mood. One moment he was morose and thoughtful, the next as excited as a boy at Christmas. Giles wasn’t sure why he trusted the creature so much, unless it was because he had a bit of hero worship left from his Watcher training.

 

Everyone knew about Spike. Half the stories were probably false, but Giles was suddenly certain that enough of them were true to make the feeling real.

 

“1965 Mustang,” Spike said proudly. “Mint condition, and more than a little power.”

 

“Convertible?”

 

Spike snorted. “Hard top. Bloody hell, mate, I’m a vampire. What do I need a convertible for?”

 

Giles had to acknowledge that point. “Buffy will be stopping by shortly.”

 

“Hopefully after the sun goes down so I can be gone.”

 

“You don’t want to see her?”

 

“Why would I?” Spike asked. “She wanted to stake me—after I dusted Dru, I might add.”

 

“She’s not too fond of vampires right now,” Giles commented. “I doubt she’ll trust you.”

 

Spike shrugged uncomfortably. “Don’t care,” he insisted. “She doesn’t have to trust me.”

 

“It might make things easier.”

 

“When have things ever been easy?” Spike asked. He glanced out the window again. It would be more than an hour before it was safe enough for him to leave the apartment. “Mind if I use your shower?”

 

“Go right ahead,” Giles replied.

 

The vampire remained an enigma that ignited his curiosity. It would be an interesting summer.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy was less inclined to stake Spike than she had been that morning. He wasn’t trying to kill her—he had, in fact, helped her quite a bit—and she was just too tired to care about the fact that he was sitting in Giles’ living room as though he belonged there. Still, there were appearances to keep up.

 

“What are you still doing here?”

 

“And good evening to you too, pet,” Spike said, completely ignoring her question.

 

Buffy sighed. “I thought I told you to get out of town.”

 

“Well, see, that’s the thing, Slayer,” he replied. “You didn’t hire me, which means I don’t answer to you.”

 

She frowned. “How long?”

 

“What?”

 

“How long are you staying?”

 

“Through the next apocalypse.” Spike almost regretted his words when he saw the look on her face. The weariness deepened, and she closed her eyes as though the very idea was too much to bear.

 

“What do you know?” Buffy asked. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she mused. If Spike knew when it was, or who—

 

He appeared apologetic. “Nothing more than that. I’m sorry.”

 

Buffy didn’t even have the energy to come back with something snarky. “Fine. Whatever, Spike.”

 

“Buffy, are you sure you want to patrol tonight?” Giles asked. “Perhaps it might be better if—”

 

“You know what they say about getting back in the saddle, Giles,” Buffy replied, making herself get up off the couch. The apartment suddenly felt too small. She needed to be out, doing something, killing something. After all, wasn’t that what she did? Buffy killed things while she tried to forget about the fact that her whole life had gone to hell.

 

She wasn’t pleased when Spike stood as well. “I’ve got to get my car,” he said. “Figure I’ll find somewhere else to stay for tomorrow. I’ll be in touch, Watcher.”

 

Buffy knew Giles wanted to say more, wanted to talk to her about what had happened with Angel, and she found herself absurdly grateful for Spike’s presence. Giles would wait until they were alone to speak, and Buffy planned on avoiding that scenario for a while.

 

She wasn’t real happy when Spike fell into step beside her. “What are you doing?”

 

“Like I said, I’ve got to get my car,” Spike repeated patiently. “Just so happens you’re going my way.”

 

Buffy turned on her heel and started heading the opposite direction, half-expecting him to follow her. When he didn’t, she looked back over her shoulder to find that he’d kept going, ignoring her rather rude dismissal entirely.

 

There was a part of her that was curious. She wanted to know more about why Spike had been so intent on getting revenge, why he had decided to come to Sunnydale. She wanted to know if staking Drusilla had hurt him as badly as staking Angel had hurt her.

 

Buffy kept walking. The last thing she needed was another vampire with a soul running around, even if Giles seemed to trust him. She was just fine on her own.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike had just reached his car when he heard their voices. The children he’d met last night were walking in his direction, arguing over whether or not they should go see Buffy. The redhead was saying that they might need to give her some more time, while the boy was loudly voicing his opinion that she’d need the support of her friends.

 

Hiding a smirk, Spike unlocked his vehicle. It sounded to him as though the lad had a crush on Buffy that he wasn’t quite over. If he didn’t miss his guess, the Slayer had turned him down flat. He’d been able to smell the bitterness on the boy the previous night.

 

“Spike!”

 

He froze, wondering if he’d been imagining things.

 

“Hey, Spike!”

 

He hadn’t. Turning, Spike looked up to see girl approaching, the witch. With some difficulty, he remembered that her name was Willow. “Hi,” she said brightly, stopping in front of him.

 

“Hello,” he replied cautiously. “Something I can do for you?”

 

Willow frowned and then shook her head. “No, I just thought I’d say hi. It seemed like the polite thing to do.”

 

Spike blinked twice, belatedly realizing that she was serious. “Right.” He had no idea what to say. People—or demons—had a tendency to avoid him completely or try to kill him. This was new.

 

“Is this your car?” The hostility in Xander’s tone was overshadowed by admiration.

 

Spike shrugged. “Yeah, it’s mine.”

 

Xander let out a low whistle, touching a tentative hand to the glossy black paint. “She’s a beauty.”

 

“Yeah, she is,” Spike agreed, still feeling a trifle hesitant about this.

 

“You’re really a vampire?” The dark-haired girl that had been introduced as Cordelia was watching him with undisguised suspicion.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “You didn’t get the memo?”

 

“You don’t act like a vampire,” Cordelia pointed out.

 

He was hard-pressed not to roll his eyes. “How the bloody hell do you know what a vampire acts like?”

 

“Hey, this is the Hellmouth, mister,” Cordelia shot back. “We all know what vampires are like.”

 

“Cordelia,” Willow said, stopping her. Spike could hear a touch of impatience in her tone, and thought that the witch wasn’t hiding her dislike of the other girl very well. “Spike’s a different kind of vampire. Like—” she faltered slightly, not wanting to bring up the subject of Angel.

 

It wasn’t that Spike was nice. He wasn’t. Normally, he would have brushed off the children easily, made several cutting remarks, and then left. It was simply that Willow had done him the kindness of saying hello, and Xander had admired his car, and so he was a little less inclined to ignore them.

 

That was all it was, of course.

 

“You lot need a ride somewhere?” he asked.

 

“Do you know where Buffy is?” Willow asked hopefully. “I mean, we don’t know if she really wants to see us or not, and when we called her house earlier, Mrs. Summers said she was still sleeping, but if she’s out maybe—”

 

Spike held up a hand, cutting her off in mid-ramble. “The Slayer’s out on patrol, and I don’t know where she was going. The opposite direction that I was heading is about all I know.”

 

He noticed that while Xander and Willow appeared disappointed, Cordelia was unfazed. “So what else are we going to do this evening?” she demanded. “I’m sure there are other places we could be.”

 

The other two exchanged looks. “Should we leave Buffy alone?” Willow asked doubtfully. “I mean with…”

 

Spike cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow to demonstrate his impatience. “Either you figure out where you want to go and get a ride, or I leave. Take your pick.”

 

“What about the Bronze?” Cordelia said, batting her eyelashes at Xander. “We haven’t been there in forever.”

 

Xander hesitated, and then glanced over at Willow. “We haven’t done the post-apocalypse party yet.”

 

Willow bit her lip. “Oz _is_ playing tonight.”

 

“Well?” Spike asked.

 

“The Bronze,” Cordelia said decidedly. “We’re going to the Bronze.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s just get out of here, shall we?” He still wasn’t quite sure how he’d gone from saving the world to playing chauffer to a bunch of high school students, but he couldn’t say he minded. Their chatter, mindless as it might be, was keeping his mind off of Drusilla. He couldn’t ask for much more than that.


	6. Chapter 6

**“…what if a dawn of a doom of a dream/bites this universe in two,/peels forever out of his grave/and sprinkles nowhere with me and you?/Blow soon to never and never to twice/ (blow life to isn’t;blow death to was)/—all nothing’s only our hugest home;/the most who die,the more we live.” ~e.e. cummings, “what if a much of a which of a wind”**

 

The Bronze was like any other club that Spike had been into—not that he’d been in many. If he’d been a different sort of vampire, this would have been prime hunting ground. Before the soul, Spike had liked his victims young. Even now, entering a place like this with so many people, hearing the blood pumping and the quick heartbeats—was nearly too much for him to take.

 

Spike was no fledgling vampire, however, nearly crippled by bloodlust and hunger. He’d been around for a long time, and he’d worked on his control. There wasn’t much that could shake it at this point.

 

Of course, he’d soon need to eat something a little more substantial than the snack the Watcher had supplied, but that could wait until he was alone.

 

The band playing wasn’t complete shit, and Spike found himself relaxing, almost against his will. Xander and Cordelia left them almost immediately for the dance floor, and so the vampire found himself alone at a table with Willow.

 

“They’re good, aren’t they?” she asked brightly, obviously deciding that small talk was the way to go. Spike decided to humor her.

 

“Not too bad.”

 

“The guy playing the guitar up there? That’s Oz. My boyfriend.”

 

The way she said it gave Spike the impression that it was either a very new development or she was still a bit in shock that she had a boyfriend. Possibly both. She was—cute, he decided. She was also one of the friendliest birds he’d ever come across. Spike decided to play along, more for the entertainment value than anything else. “New bloke?”

 

“Sorta,” Willow replied. “I mean, we’ve been going out for a while now, but it’s not real serious. Not yet, anyway. I think it’s going to get serious, though. What about you?”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow, surprised. He was having trouble getting used to this friendly communication thing. “What about me? Do I have a new bloke?”

 

“No!” Willow said quickly. “Although, that’s fine, if you do. I mean, being gay isn’t anything to be ashamed of. If you are. Gay, that is. I’m really making a mess of this, aren’t I?”

 

Spike was startled into a deep chuckle. He decided he liked this girl, although he wasn’t sure why. “I prefer women, luv, and no. There isn’t anybody.”

 

Willow caught the flicker of sadness that danced through his eyes and wisely refrained from asking him about it. Spike wasn’t anything like Angel. He seemed less solemn, for one thing, and somehow more human. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“You can ask,” Spike allowed, not promising to answer.

 

“How old are you?”

 

“That’s not usually considered a very polite question,” Spike countered, although the twist of his lips told Willow that he wasn’t upset.

 

She shrugged. “That’s only true when a person is actually aging and doesn’t want to admit it.”

 

Spike nodded. “Point. I was turned in 1880, so you do the math.”

 

“You must have seen so much,” Willow said, not bothering to disguise her jealousy. “Been all over.”

 

“Pretty much all seven continents,” Spike agreed. “Ask me about it sometime, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

 

“Hey, Willow.” The band had taken a break, and Spike looked over at the short, redheaded boy watching the two of them with mild interest.

 

Willow’s smile brightened. “Hey! Oz, this is Spike. Spike, Oz. I told you about him.”

 

“Hey.” That was all Oz said, and Spike was impressed by the boy’s equanimity.

 

“H’lo.”

 

Oz turned back to Willow. “You want something to drink?”

 

“I can get it,” Spike said, standing. “I’m a bit thirsty myself.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for their orders. Both of them asked for sodas and Spike headed for the bar.

 

He was a little bemused. Spike had never spent this much time with humans before, let alone children. And he was actually enjoying himself. That was the strangest part.

 

When he arrived back at the table, Spike was somehow unsurprised to find the Slayer. She didn’t look pleased to see him. “What are you doing here?”

 

Willow stepped in to play peacemaker. “Spike gave us a ride.” Her eyes clearly held a plea for her friend to be polite.

 

Buffy was obviously struggling. “Okay.”

 

That was all she said, but it was a sight more pleasant than some of the other comments she might have made. Spike gave Willow and Oz their drinks and pulled his beer bottle out of an inner pocket. Now that Buffy had arrived, Spike wasn’t so sure he wanted to stay since he didn’t want to deal with her attitude.

 

On the other hand, he did want to finish his beer.

 

“How long are you going to be staying with Giles?” Buffy asked, sounding almost courteous.

 

Spike decided to return the favor. “I’m not. Figure I’ll get a hotel room for the night and start looking for another place tomorrow.”

 

“I know of a few places,” Oz offered unexpectedly. “Any special requirements?”

 

Spike considered the question. “Not too sunny, for obvious reasons, plus ready sewer access and some kind of garage. Other than that, I’m not too particular.”

 

Oz thought for a second and then scribbled down a phone number. “I know a guy. His rates are pretty low.”

 

Willow and Buffy were both staring at him, open-mouthed. “How do you know a guy?” Willow asked.

 

“Remember Jordy?” Oz asked, just a trace of amusement in his tone.

 

“The cousin that bit you?”

 

“The guy is his dad, my uncle.”

 

“So you’re really staying?” Buffy asked Spike. “For good?”

 

“For now,” Spike hedged. “As long as it takes.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “And if the apocalypse is tomorrow?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Then it’ll probably be longer. I’m a bit tired of traveling at the moment.”

 

“You said you’d tell me why you wanted revenge so badly,” Buffy reminded him.

 

Spike shook his head. “No, Slayer. I said I’d let you buy me a drink and then I’d tell you. I’ve done the purchasing this evening.” He stood, swallowing the last of his beer and nodding at Oz. “I appreciate the tip.”

 

“Not a problem,” Oz replied. “As long as you don’t go eating the other tenants.”

 

Spike smiled. “Not a chance.” He swaggered off through the crowd, smirking just a bit as he caught a young woman giving him the once-over. Spike winked at her, feeling a sense of pleasure when she blushed but didn’t look away.

 

Sunnydale was showing some promise.

 

~~~~~

 

“I want to know what the Slayer is,” Joyce said without preamble, as soon as the door swung open.

 

Giles took a step back in surprise, and she took it as an invitation. “Mrs. Summers, what a pleasant surprise.”

 

“Don’t,” Joyce said shortly. “I want to know what Buffy being the Slayer means, and how to get her out of it.”

 

“That’s not possible.” Giles wished he could have softened the words as soon as they left his mouth. “Forgive me, but it’s true.”

 

Joyce took the seat he offered. “Then at least tell me why Buffy. Why does my daughter have to be the Slayer?”

 

“Believe me, Mrs. Summers, if I could relieve Buffy of this burden, I most certainly would.” Giles removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Would you like some tea?”

 

She very nearly refused, wanting to throw the offer back in his face. Joyce wanted to somehow force this man to understand that he had taken her entire world and turned it upside down on its head.

 

Wasn’t Buffy almost her entire world? And hadn’t her daughter’s position as the Slayer removed some of her maternal prerogatives?

 

Joyce was still feeling shaky over it. Maybe tea would be good after all.

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

Giles set about making the tea, the silence in his flat broken only by the rattle of the teakettle and cups and saucers. “I know this must be very distressing for you,” he said gently as he brought the tray out into the living room.

 

It was the understatement of the year. “You could say that.”

 

“I really am sorry,” Giles reiterated. “I wish it was not Buffy who was Chosen. I’m—I’m very fond of her, you know.”

 

Joyce did know, and seeing the distress in Giles’ eyes did something to relieve the fear in her own. “I know.” She glanced around the flat. “Is your nephew staying with you?” she asked politely, suddenly fearful of broaching the subject of Buffy again. Joyce wasn’t sure she was ready to know the answers to her questions.

 

“My nephew?” Giles asked, surprise evident in his tone.

 

Joyce frowned. “Yes, that nice young man who walked my daughter home the other night. He said he was—” She stopped, realizing that it had been a lie. “Why am I not surprised?” she muttered, feeling like an idiot.

 

“You mean Spike?” Giles was slightly taken aback by the lie, but he could see how it would have made things simpler. “He’s not my nephew, no, but—I believe he’s someone you can trust.”

 

“Who is he?” Joyce asked. “Another vampire?”

 

“Yes, but it’s not that simple.” Giles sighed. Nothing about this whole business was simple. “Spike has a reputation among the Watchers’ Council.” At her silent question, he explained, “I work for the Council. Simply put, I am Buffy’s Watcher. My job is to train her, and give her whatever help I can.”

 

“And Spike works for the Council?”

 

“Good Lord, no!” Giles exclaimed, forgetting for a moment that Joyce wouldn’t know why that was such a ridiculous question. “The Council would never employ a vampire. At least, I don’t think that the Council ever has. No, Spike is something of a legend, along the lines of Robin Hood.”

 

Joyce frowned. “He robs the rich and gives to the poor?”

 

“He has a reputation for saving people,” Giles corrected her. “Most of the time when we have heard of him, it’s in connection to, well, something slightly shady. Occasionally, however…” Giles trailed off.

 

“And he’s here now because?” Joyce asked.

 

Giles smiled. “Because he’s been asked to keep your daughter safe.”

 

Joyce remembered the charming young man who had been nothing but polite. He had also looked slightly dangerous. “Then he won’t hurt Buffy?”

 

“If I thought there was a chance of that, he wouldn’t be walking around right now,” Giles replied.

 

Joyce looked at him, sensing Giles’ own ability to be dangerous. Somehow it made her feel just a little bit better. “Then maybe you wouldn’t mind telling me what exactly has been going on these last few months?”

 

It was phrased as a question, but her tone left no room for refusal. Giles knew when he was outmatched, and he conceded as gracefully as possible. “Of course,” he agreed, bracing himself for a long evening.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike found the butcher first, finding it easier than he expected to get blood. They were open late, which was a pleasant surprise, and he set up a regular order, relieved when the man in charge didn’t ask any awkward questions.

 

Once he’d found a hotel room, Spike fed until he felt comfortably full, putting the rest of the blood in the mini-fridge. Then he went out hunting.

 

Spike found a curious pleasure in dusting vampires, particularly those he knew had been sired by Angelus or Drusilla. He didn’t particularly care about saving anyone, nor was he interested in killing demons or vampires just because they were there.

 

What he did enjoy was making certain that no trace of his sire or grandsire was left on the face of the planet—except for himself. Spike had always been the exception to the rule.

 

Feeling rather cheerful after dispatching a half dozen or so of Angelus’ minions, Spike went back to his hotel room and slept like the dead.

 

When he awoke in the late afternoon, Spike quickly showered and changed into clean clothing, then called the number that Oz had given him. “Ken Osborne.”

 

“The name’s William Brighton,” Spike said. “Your nephew gave me your number. I’m new in town and looking for a place.”

 

“Rent or buy?”

 

“Either.” Spike smiled. It sounded like the uncle was just as phlegmatic as his nephew. “I’m looking for something without a lot of sun and some sort of covered parking.”

 

There was a moment’s silence, and then the other man replied, “Think I’ve got something you might like. What time do you want to see it?”

 

“After sunset?” Spike asked. “I have a sun allergy,” he lied smoothly.

 

“Right.” From the amused drawl, Spike got the impression that the other man knew he was lying. “That’ll be fine. Around nine?”

 

Spike got directions, and a slow smile came over his face. This was looking to be his kind of town. A little on the quiet side, maybe, but there was easy access to blood, a Hellmouth to keep things interesting, and a Slayer to needle.

 

This assignment could be pleasant indeed.


	7. Chapter 7

**“** **Love has gone and left me and the days are all alike;/Eat I must, and sleep I will,—and would that night were here!/But ah!—to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike!/Would that it were day again!—with twilight near!...” ~Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Ashes of Life”**

 

It had been nearly a week since Buffy had seen Spike, and she desperately wished that she didn’t care. Of course, wondering where Spike was did take her mind off of missing Angel. It was really a no-win situation.

 

Buffy really didn’t care where the vampire was, or why he hadn’t shown his face. It was just that he’d repeated over and over how he was sticking around, and that he was getting paid to protect her. His absence seemed to indicate that he’d been all talk and no action, despite his help with Angelus.

 

She was still dreaming about Angel, nearly every night. They were always in the sunlight, and Angel was never Angelus, and he always swore his undying love. Buffy wasn’t sure what to make of that.

 

At seventeen, she could hardly comprehend loving someone else as much as she had loved him. Buffy felt as though her life was over. Hadn’t she done everything now? She had died, she’d loved a man, and she’d had to kill him. What could possibly top that?

 

Everyone was being so careful around her. There had been a dozen instances where Willow or Xander, or even Giles, had stopped what they were saying mid-sentence in order to avoid any reference to Angel or Angelus. Cordelia was the only one who didn’t guard her tongue, and Buffy sometimes found herself absurdly grateful for that.

 

She also knew that she was being extremely bitchy, and she couldn’t seem to help herself, so Buffy avoided everyone. It was easier that way, and it was easier not to see the others acting all couple-y while she was alone.

 

The Slayer was always alone. She’d learned that lesson pretty well this last year.

 

“What are we fighting tonight? Vampires or just inner demons?”

 

Buffy paused, recognizing the mocking voice immediately. “What do you want, Spike?”

 

“Told you, I’m here to make sure you stay alive.” He emerged from the shadows, right at her elbow, and Buffy wondered how he’d disguised his presence from her.

 

Buffy gave him a sour look. “Then where have you been the last week?”

 

“Miss me, pet?”

 

“Don’t call me that, and no, I didn’t miss you,” she snapped irritably. “How are you going to help me if you’re not around, though?”

 

“Who said I wasn’t around?” Spike asked, smiling.

 

Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve been spying on me?”

 

“Hardly,” he scoffed. “I told you I’d be around. It’s your own fault for not realizing I was there.”

 

Buffy didn’t particularly like that idea. She didn’t much like taking the blame for anything these days. Even the slightest hint of reproach was enough to bring her defenses up. “You were stalking me.”

 

He smirked. “Just call me your own personal bodyguard. Not every girl has one.”

 

“Stay out of my way, Spike!”

 

“Not in your way.”

 

“Fine.” Buffy marched off, knowing full well that Spike was ambling along behind her, keeping up but appearing to move at his own speed. It was really annoying her. She whirled to face him, her anger boiling over. “I hate you!”

 

Spike lifted an eyebrow. “Okay,” he agreed pleasantly.

 

“Why do you have to do that?” Buffy demanded. “Why do you have to be so—so—”

 

“Tolerant?” he asked.

 

“Insufferable!”

 

“That’s an awfully big word, luv,” Spike said. He was infuriatingly calm, and Buffy suddenly couldn’t take it any longer. Her fist flew out, catching him by surprise. Buffy wasn’t prepared to have him hit back, his punch catching her on the cheek, her head snapping back. “Don’t do that unless you’re ready for the consequences,” he warned, his voice low.

 

Somehow his warning just fueled her rage, and Buffy flew at him. Her anger hampered her slightly, but after the first few minutes she realized that Spike wasn’t going for the kill, or even a disabling blow. Instead, he seemed intent on keeping the fight going for as long as possible.

 

She wasn’t striking to hurt, and neither was he; they were almost sparring, even as Buffy found herself growing tired.

 

She wasn’t sure who disengaged first. One minute the punches and kicks were still flying, still being blocked, and the next minute they had stopped, a few feet away from each other. Spike was wearing his usual mocking smile, and he raised an eyebrow. “Ready for another round, or shall we call a truce?”

 

“You could have killed me,” Buffy pointed out.

 

“Several times, in fact,” Spike agreed. “That would defeat the purpose of making sure you stay alive.”

 

She watched him for another moment before relaxing her guard just slightly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

 

Spike watched her, amusement warring with interest in his eyes. The fight had been exhilarating. He’d never fought a Slayer before, although he’d wanted to. Even sparring with one would have been pleasurable, but he’d never been certain that he could trust the Watchers’ Council to let him be afterwards. The last thing he’d wanted was to be pressed to answer questions he had no intention of answering.

 

“You going to stop being such a bitch?” Spike asked conversationally. From his tone, he might as well have been asking about the weather.

 

Buffy glared at him again. “I’m not—” She stopped, knowing full well he was right. She turned on her heel and walked off, unsurprised when Spike fell into step next to her. “Did you find a place?”

 

Spike glanced over at her in surprise. It looked like they were starting their conversation over again, this time politely. “I did.”

 

The short answer left little room for reply or question. Buffy finally said, “I think I’m going to head home.”

 

“Would you like me to walk you?”

 

Buffy very nearly snarled at him, telling him she didn’t need his protection. Then she bit her tongue. While every one of her other friends had been dancing around her grief, treating it like the elephant in the room, Spike seemed to be facing it head on. At least he wasn’t treating her as though she was made of glass. It was a nice change.

 

“I guess. If you want.” It was a rather noncommittal answer, but it must have satisfied Spike since he kept walking with her.

 

They were both silent on the walk home. Buffy had to admit that she felt better. Some of the anger she’d felt had been released during her impromptu battle with Spike. The grief was quiet for the moment, if only because she was tired.

 

Spike walked her all the way up to the door, and then stood there, watching her. “Do you want to come in?” Buffy finally asked.

 

He shrugged. “I could.”

 

Buffy didn’t know how to deal with him, how to take his short answers and long silences. “Mom knows, by the way.”

 

“Knows what?” he asked with a frown.

 

“About you lying to her,” Buffy replied, smiling when he looked slightly embarrassed. “She wasn’t mad, though. I explained what was going on, and I guess she went to talk with Giles.”

 

Buffy had no idea why she was telling him all this, why it would matter that he knew. Spike was an anomaly. Even more than Angel was, she thought.

 

“It’s good that she knows the truth,” Spike finally said. “I’m glad she wasn’t mad at me.”

 

The last statement was almost a question, and Buffy shook her head in response. “She wasn’t.”

 

They might have stood there, watching each other, all night. Something about their furious sparring—or was it a real fight?—had fundamentally changed how they viewed each other. For Buffy, at least, it was because Spike was the only one who hadn’t taken any shit from her. He was the first to hit back when she had struck out in anger.

 

Angel had never done that.

 

Spike, for his part, found the girl fascinating. She was so full of fire, he had no idea how she’d managed to fall in love with Angelus. It wasn’t that Spike had kept an eye on his grandsire, or even that he’d cared to know what the bastard was doing—but he’d known. They had both drifted through the world like shadows. Spike liked to think that Angelus had heard about some of his exploits, just as Spike had known that Angelus was still brooding over his past sins.

 

He didn’t really like the girl, but he felt sorry for her. Spike had to keep reminding himself that she was young—barely more than a child, and she had just lost her first love. He’d been there and done that. He remembered what those first awful days had been like.

 

Spike remembered how long it had taken him to not feel a hot rush of anger every time Drusilla had crossed his mind. It was no wonder the Slayer was acting like such a bitch—he’d probably been a right bastard himself.

 

The door opened, startling both of them out of their thoughts. “Are you two going to stand out there all night?” Joyce asked, sounding amused. She glanced over at Spike. “Do you want to come inside, William?”

 

He did and he didn’t. Spike was suddenly afraid of getting too close. “No, thanks.” Turning abruptly, he called out a goodbye over his shoulder before Buffy could stop him.

 

Not that he thought she would.

 

“Spike!”

 

He hesitated, and then turned slightly. “Yeah?”

 

“I owe you a drink.”

 

Spike nodded slowly. “Suppose you do.”

 

“Tomorrow night?” Buffy asked. “Around ten, at the Bronze?”

 

“Sure,” he replied, and then, shoving his hands into his pockets, he disappeared into the night.

 

Spike had been a shadow for so long, he wasn’t sure what it meant that he’d started feeling solid again.

 

~~~~~

 

“Why didn’t you invite him inside, Buffy?” Joyce asked reproachfully.

 

Buffy couldn’t believe she was taking the blame for Spike’s reluctance to come into the house. “I did ask him,” she replied. “He just didn’t want to, that’s all.”

 

Joyce frowned. “Does he have a place to stay? Because if he doesn’t—”

 

Buffy cut her mom off. “He said he found a place. Oz was helping him.”

 

“That’s good.” Joyce still appeared to be thinking about Spike and his abrupt departure.

 

Buffy bit back a sigh, wondering why Joyce seemed to like Spike. “Don’t worry about him, Mom. Spike can take care of himself.”

 

Joyce shook her head ruefully. “I’m sure he can, sweetheart, but—” She didn’t finish her thought. “Maybe you should invite him over for dinner sometime.”

 

“Vampires don’t eat,” Buffy replied as patiently as she was able.

 

Joyce frowned. “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t join us,” she replied. “I’m sure there’s probably something that he likes.”

 

“He likes blood,” Buffy said, hoping that would end the conversation. At the same time, she had to wonder what Spike did like. Angel had given no indication of eating any sort of human food, but if there was one thing that Buffy knew for certain about Spike it was that he was nothing like Angel.

 

Maybe that’s why it was easier to be around him in some ways—even though he was connected to Angel, thinking about one didn’t connect her to memories of the other in her mind. These days, thinking about anyone or anything reminded her of Angel—how he’d killed Willow’s fish, Xander’s constant I-told-you-so’s, Cordelia’s insistance on uninviting him from her car, Giles and his burning baseball bat, her mother’s face when he told her—

 

The list went on and on, but with Spike there was none of that. No memories, just the weird knowledge that he was there to watch her back.

 

And she still knew next to nothing about him.

 

“Maybe we could have him over,” Buffy said. “I’ll ask him what he likes tomorrow night.”

 

Joyce smiled at her. “Good. I’m sure he must be lonely, being new in town. I remember how difficult it was for me to settle in.”

 

Buffy opened her mouth to tell her mother that it wasn’t the same for vampires, and then she stopped. She didn’t know that for certain either.

 

These days, she wasn’t sure of anything.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike had promised to drop by, and he figured it was time to keep his promise. The Watcher opened his door slowly, then stepped aside to allow him to enter. “Spike.”

 

“Watcher.” Spike stood just inside, waiting for an invitation to take a seat.

 

Giles was still watching him. “Is there something I can do for you?”

 

Spike shrugged. “You could offer me a drink.”

 

In spite of himself, Giles found a smile forming. “Of course. Please, sit down.” He peered a little more closely at the vampire. “You look like you’ve been busy,” Giles commented, referring to the bruise lining his jaw.

 

Taking the drink Giles had prepared, Spike took a seat on his couch. “Just a little sparring session with your Slayer. The girl has quite a punch.”

 

“You fought with her?” Giles asked, anger coloring his tone.

 

“She started it,” Spike said evenly, his lips quirking with quick humor. “It was just a sparring session. She wasn’t hurt, and I walked her home after.”

 

Giles’ curiosity got the better of him. “What did you think?”

 

“She’s good,” Spike replied. “There’s room for improvement, of course, but she’s got a lot of power.”

 

“Can I ask why you were fighting?”

 

Spike grinned. “She said I was being ‘insufferable,’ and then she hit me.” He was suddenly completely serious. “I’ll take a lot, but I’m no doormat.”

 

“No,” Giles agreed. “I wouldn’t think so.” He sighed. “She’s taking Angel’s death hard.”

 

“First love,” Spike said, and sympathy laced his voice. “We all mourn in our own fashion.”

 

“I take it you found a place,” Giles said, not knowing how to respond to Spike’s assessment of Buffy’s mood. Not that he disagreed with the vampire, but he had his own grief that he had no desire to dip into.

 

Spike shrugged. “It’s not bad. A townhouse not too far from here, and it’s got a garage. I needed somewhere to put my girl.”

 

Somehow Giles knew that Spike was referring to his car. “So you’re really staying?”

 

“I am,” Spike replied easily. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a chance to stay in one place for a bit. Might be a nice change.”

 

“How long have you been traveling?”

 

“Since I was turned,” Spike replied, throwing back the rest of his drink and getting to his feet. He felt the sudden need to leave, knowing that the Watcher was going to start probing in areas Spike preferred to let be. “I should be going.”

 

“Wait, Spike,” Giles said. “You’ve really given me very little information about what’s to come.”

 

“You know as much as I do,” Spike responded gruffly. “Told you, there was supposed to be a souled vampire on hand. Angelus didn’t work out, so I got called up.”

 

Giles had no idea why he did it, but his voice was soft as he said, “Or maybe you were the one who was needed now, and not Angel.”

 

“We’ll never know, will we?” Spike asked. “Look, Rupert, I’m here. That’s all that really matters.”

 

The vampire was gone in the next moment, leaving Giles to his own thoughts. He’d been doing his own research into William the Bloody over the last week and had made some interesting discoveries. Although the Council had often dismissed the stories about the mercenary vampire with a penchant for rescuing innocents as a figment of the imagination, Giles was now certain that some of the stories were true.

 

Perhaps all of them were, which would indicate that Spike was even more of an enigma than he’d thought. After all, both souled vampires had seemed to disappear into history, but in very different ways. There was no word about Angelus, but William the Bloody had become larger than life.

 

If Spike was telling the truth, and he had been recruited as a substitute for Angel, Giles had to wonder why Angel would have been called upon first. Especially since Spike’s soul was apparently anchored.

 

Giles turned back to his books thoughtfully. He would need to go through the Watchers’ diaries again. Surely there would be some mention of Spike. Giles was insanely curious as to why two vampires, both cursed, would react in such different ways.

 

It was a mystery, and it promised to occupy his time admirably.


	8. Chapter 8

**“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,/And sorry I could not travel both/And be one traveler, long I stood/And looked down one as far as I could/To where it bent in the undergrowth…I shall be telling this with a sigh/Somewhere ages and ages hence:/Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—/I took the one less traveled by,/And that has made all the difference.” ~Robert Frost, “The Road Less Traveled”**

 

Willow had been spending the bulk of her time with Oz over the last week. Although she’d have loved to sit down with Buffy and indulge in some girl-talk, Buffy hadn’t been around much. Even when Buffy was there, she’d been quiet, uncommunicative, and often bitchy.

 

Willow was trying to be understanding, but the end result was that Oz was becoming more of her best friend than Buffy. Oz was sweet and understanding and solid.

 

And the smoochies were really, really nice.

 

They were out walking one evening, without giving a lot of thought to what might be lurking in the shadows when they found themselves faced with a couple of vampires. Oz put himself in front of her immediately, and they both pulled out stakes, but Willow was more than a little nervous.

 

“Maybe we should run,” Willow suggested.

 

Oz shook his head. “We won’t be able to outrun them.”

 

She fumbled in her purse for a cross, hoping that the vampires would realize that they weren’t going to be an easy meal and leave. Before she could find it, however, one of the vampires disintegrated. Oz stepped forward to stake the second, taking advantage of its momentary surprise. Willow heaved a sigh of relief as she recognized their rescuer. “Oh, hey, Spike.”

 

She saw a flash of surprise cross his face. Willow wondered what it was about kindness that he found so shocking. “What are you two doing out after dark?” he asked. “It’s not very safe.”

 

Oz shrugged. “We thought we’d take a walk.”

 

Spike almost looked like he was going to argue with that, and then he closed his mouth with a snap. “Might be wise to stay in after dark for a while,” he advised. “We still haven’t tracked down all Angelus’ minions.”

 

“We’re used to dealing with vampires,” Willow replied. “It’s not like you can really avoid them in Sunnydale.”

 

Spike shrugged and turned to leave, apparently feeling that his work was done. “Hey, Spike! Did you find a place to stay?”

 

The vampire turned back, still with that same expression of surprise. “Yeah, actually. Meant to thank you for the reference.”

 

“No problem,” Oz said easily.

 

“Where is it?” Willow asked. She asked the question because it seemed polite and because Spike pricked her curiosity. “I mean, I was just wondering if you found something that worked for you.”

 

“Suits me fine, ducks,” Spike replied. Giving them an almost hesitant smile, he asked, “Do you want to see it?”

 

“Sure.” Oz shrugged. “Uncle Ken sell you the place off Elm?”

 

Spike quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s right. You know about that?”

 

“He was having trouble unloading it,” Oz replied. “People don’t seem to be moving to Sunnydale all that often these days.”

 

Willow frowned. “I don’t see why not.” She stopped. “Except for the whole death-rate thing. That’s pretty bad.”

 

“There was a death in that house,” Oz explained. “Bad enough to move to Sunnydale, but no one wants to buy a house where there’s been a murder.”

 

“True enough,” Spike agreed, watching as they fell into step next to him.

 

Willow was thinking that over. “Wow, so you really bought a house? You must be planning on staying for a while.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Got a job here, haven’t I?”

 

“The apocalypse could happen tomorrow, though,” Willow argued. “I mean, not like I want it to, or like I want you to leave, because I don’t. You seem really nice, so I’m glad you’re staying, and you probably saved our lives, so—”

 

“Will,” Oz said softly, breaking into her nervous rambling. Spike’s lips twitched in amusement as he watched the girl blush.

 

“Oz! Why didn’t you stop me sooner?”

 

The boy shrugged. “You’re cute when you ramble.”

 

Now Spike did laugh. “No harm done, pet. To answer your question, though, I’m a bit tired of moving around. It’ll be right nice to have a place to settle for a while.”

 

“That’s good,” Willow said, meaning it. It wasn’t just that Spike was helpful, but she’d enjoyed his company when he’d gone with them to the Bronze. Not that Willow was attracted—Oz was quite enough for her—but he was nice, even if he didn’t seem to know what to do with them sometimes.

 

They were standing outside in front of his townhouse, and Spike hesitated. It had been a long time since he’d had a place to call his own, longer still since there had been anyone to show it off to.

 

Actually, there never really had been anyone at all.

 

Spike had been very careful about his acquaintances over the last century. They were mostly business contacts, with the occasional one-night stand. There had been a few people he might have called friends, if he hadn’t been constantly on the move.

 

“Come in,” he finally said, unlocking the door and allowing them to enter first.

 

Willow wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it was all very oridinary. Lots of leather, maybe, but that wasn’t surprising. The furnishings were all in darker colors, but it wasn’t oppressive. “This is nice, Spike.”  


“Yeah?” He sounded almost relieved. “I’ve never had free rein with a place.”

 

“It’s nice,” Oz stated. “Two bedrooms, right?”

 

“And a study,” Spike said. “I don’t need that much space, but it could come in handy. The garage was a big plus.”

 

Oz looked about as interested as he ever did. “I heard about that car, man. You mind?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

In two seconds, both men had pretty much devolved to the same level as far as Willow could tell. She never could understand what it was with men and cars. Seriously, what was the big deal?

 

Willow wandered after them, watching as Spike excitedly related engine details. He might as well have been speaking a foreign language, but it made him seem more real at the same time.

 

She perked up when Spike said, “Yeah, I’m meeting her at the Bronze tomorrow night. Hopefully she’ll accept a truce.”

 

“Who? Buffy?” Willow asked. “When did you see her? She hasn’t been around all week.”

 

Spike glanced up, shrugging. “Ran into her while she was patrolling. We got into it, and then we called a draw.”

 

“You and Buffy fought?” Willow nearly squeaked. “Like really fought?”

 

“I wasn’t trying to do her any harm,” Spike was quick to assure her. “It was sparring, really, although I was relieved she didn’t have a stake in hand.”

 

Willow frowned. “But I thought you were on her side.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Well, yeah, but I’m not going to stand there and take her punching me in the nose, am I?”

 

“Huh.” Oz frowned. “Buffy hasn’t been herself lately.”

 

“Well, with Angel and having to kill him and everything she wouldn’t be,” Willow said, quick to defend her friend. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Buffy just needs time and understanding. Not fighting,” she added, glaring at Spike as sternly as she could manage.

 

“And sometimes a person needs to work off a little steam,” Spike shot back. “Probably won’t happen again, though. Slayer was downright friendly when I left tonight.”

 

Willow nodded. “See that it doesn’t. Buffy has to fight enough people. She doesn’t need to be fighting her friends too.”

 

“Oh, I’m not her friend, Red,” Spike said. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

 

Willow thought about arguing with him and then decided to back off. She got the feeling that Spike would insist very loudly that he didn’t have friends, even if he did. The vampire acted like a tough guy, but she had the sneaking suspicion that he was pretty much like everybody else under the surface.

 

It just made her like him all the more.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike arrived at the Bronze early, more out of force of habit than from any real desire not to keep the Slayer waiting. The visit to the Watcher and then the run-in with the Slayer’s friends had proven interesting. He still wasn’t quite sure how to take their kindness. What did a bloke do with people like that?

 

It had been years since Spike had cared how others saw him, but he was beginning too. Not much, mind. Not really. Just enough to return kindness with kindness. That wasn’t so much, nor was it difficult.

 

He took a seat at a table with a good view of the door, tapping a staccato rhythm with thumb and fingers. Spike was, if he had to be quite honest, just a little nervous.

 

It wasn’t that he had any feelings for the Slayer. If he cared at all it was because he’d been paid to do so. Granted, there was some slight sympathy towards her because she’d had Angelus to deal with and she’d lost her first love. He understood that sort of pain, and he could empathize.

 

No, what Spike was nervous about was the fact that she was going to ask questions that reconnected him to memories he’d longed to forget. Spike had no desire to bare his soul for her, but he’d recognized a stubbornness in the bint that would make evasion difficult.

 

Spike had also recognized a kind of heartlessness in her. If he pissed Buffy off enough, she’d use whatever emotional ammunition he gave her to flay him verbally. It would be a careful line to walk to give her enough information to make her understand, and yet not so much that she could use it against him.

 

“Spike.”

 

He looked up to see her standing in front of him. Her face was closed off again, and Spike knew that this evening was probably going to be less than pleasant. “Slayer.”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“Skip it,” Spike replied. “What I want, you’re not old enough to buy.”

 

Buffy sat down at the table across from him. “Okay. So spill.”

 

“Not the way it works, pet,” Spike said evenly. “You don’t get my entire life story. What you get are answers to your questions if I feel like giving them.”

 

“What, like you’re worried what I think about you?” Buffy scoffed. “Please, Spike, you’re a vampire. The news couldn’t get much worse.”

 

“Not everything’s about you, Summers,” Spike spat back at her. “Sometimes it’s about me not caring to share. Ever think of my tender feelings?”

 

His tone was mocking, but the words were real enough, and Buffy could see their echo in his eyes. Spike was keeping her at arm’s length, which was fine. It wasn’t like she wanted to get all that close to him herself. “Fine. What was between you and Angel? Why would you even agree to come here? And what was all that stuff about him torturing you?”

 

Spike managed to shrug nonchalantly. “Angelus was my sire’s sire,” he replied. “Meaning he made Dru, and then Dru made me.”

 

“He told me about Drusilla, but he never told me about you,” Buffy objected.

 

Spike laughed. “What did he tell you about her?”

 

“Angel said Drusilla was his greatest crime.”

 

“And I was his worst,” Spike murmured. “The gypsies made a mistake. They wanted revenge for the death of one of their own, and they got the wrong guy for the crime. If I’d been thinking straight, I’d have run as fast as I could for the other side of the world. As it was, once they’d cursed me, I went straight back to Dru.”

 

Buffy frowned. “I don’t see—”

 

“Angelus knew what had happened, knew I’d basically taken his place, and instead of sending me on my merry way, he got out the chains. I won’t go into details, but it wasn’t pretty.”

 

Buffy was still trying to figure out what he meant. “That’s what you meant by torture.”

 

“That’s right. Three bloody years of it. And I think that answers just about all your questions.” His voice was tight, and Buffy realized that she was probing old wounds that were probably still raw.

 

“I still don’t see why he wouldn’t have at least mentioned the fact that there was another vampire with a soul,” Buffy objected. “How do we even know for sure that you have one?”

 

Spike smirked. “The fact that your throat is still intact is probably a pretty good indication,” he replied. “What? Did you expect Angel to confess his sins to you one by one? Let me guess, you found out about Dru after she showed up, and then you had to force it out of him.” The expression on her face was confirmation enough. “There you go. Why would he tell the girl he loved that he’d done unspeakable things to a person in his same shoes?”

 

“He didn’t have a soul then!” Buffy replied. “He wasn’t good!”

 

“Was he ever?” Spike asked. “Look, I get that you were in love with him, but you won’t catch me singing his praises. I’m sorry for you, but I’m not sorry he’s dead, and now you know why. I’ve wished him dust for a hundred years. It’s a little hard to change old habits now.”

 

Buffy wanted to strike out at him, but she couldn’t. Angel had hurt him. It would be like getting mad at Giles for hating Angelus. Even though she wanted to, she couldn’t.

 

“Mom wants to invite you for dinner some night,” Buffy said, changing the subject.

 

Spike blinked. “What?”

 

“She wants to invite you for dinner,” she repeated. “She said it was because you were new in town, and she knew how hard that could be. You really don’t have to come, though.”

 

Spike shook his head wonderingly. “Your mum is really something, you know?” He laughed. “Tell her I’d be happy to accept her invitation.” He grabbed one of the cocktail napkins on the table and scribbled down a number. “Give me a call and let me know when. Or if you need a hand. I’ll be around, but you can reach me there if you like.”

 

Wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, Spike moved away from the table, losing himself in the crowd and exiting out the back. He thought he’d done fairly well, had avoided handing her more ammunition to use against him. The Slayer didn’t trust him yet, and probably never would. Angel was still a paragon of virtue in her eyes, and would probably only become more so as the days and weeks passed by.

 

It was always like that with the dead. It became easier to hold an idealized view of them, even though it wasn’t accurate.

 

Buffy was young. It would be easier still to place Angel on a pedestal reserved for first loves who suffer tragic fates.

 

Still, his job wasn’t to like her, it was to keep her safe. He’d proven a number of times that he could do just that, no matter what his personal feelings on the matter might be.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy didn’t like what she was seeing.

 

Even though she’d tried very hard to discourage it, Joyce had insisted on having Spike over for dinner, and had actually gone to the trouble to procure blood. Buffy had expected him to be just as annoying with her mom as he was with everyone else. With dinner out of the way, Joyce would never have him over again, and that would be that.

 

Buffy just didn’t understand what everyone else saw in him.

 

She couldn’t deny that Spike was really nice to her mom, going so far as to pull her chair out for her at dinner. Not that he did anything of the sort for her. Spike even ate her mom’s food and complimented her on her cooking.

 

Spike told stories about being in Africa, after Joyce mentioned that she was thinking about displaying tribal art in the next showing. He even, if Buffy wasn’t reading the signals wrong, _flirted with her mother_ , and Joyce preened under the attention.

 

In the end, Buffy finally decided that she’d had enough. Announcing that she needed to patrol, she got up from the table.

 

“I’ll go with you,” Spike offered, beginning to stand.

 

“No,” Buffy said shortly. “Stay. You seem to be having a good time.”

 

Spike gave her a sharp look, his head slightly tilted. Buffy was certain that he was looking right down into her soul. “Alright,” he said finally. “I don’t mind staying. I’m sure you can handle yourself.”

 

Buffy knew that was probably meant to be a subtle dig, so she just gave them both a tight smile and walked out of the house.

 

She really, really didn’t like Spike, Buffy decided. Actually, she resented the hell out of him. What gave the Powers the right to take Angel and replace him with Spike? If they could do that, then why the hell couldn’t they have made Angel’s soul secure or something?

 

It wasn’t fair. She had to kill the man she loved, and Spike got everything he wanted. Spike wanted revenge, and he got it, at the price of her happiness.

 

Buffy, of course, was conveniently forgetting that she was the one who had staked Angel.

 

Her eyes narrowing, Buffy made a resolution. Spike might be there to help her. Her Watcher, her mom, even her friends might like him, but she didn’t want him around. The less she had to see him, the better.

 

In fact, if she could get Spike to leave town altogether, that might just be best. After all, when hadn’t she been able to handle an apocalypse on her own?


	9. Chapter 9

**“Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,/Tears from the depth of some devine despair/Rise in the heart and gather to the eyes,/In looking on the happy autumn-fields,/ And thinking of the days that are no more…Dear as remembered kisses after death,/And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned/On lips that are for others; deepest love,/Deep as first love and wild with all regret;/O Death in Life, the days that are no more!” ~Alfred Lord Tennyson, “Tears, Idle Tears”**

 

Joyce was a little surprised when she opened the back door to find Spike on the other side. The soft tapping that had alerted her to his presence seemed—out of character. She’d thought he was more of a front door kind of man, the kind who would ring the doorbell.

 

Then again, what did she know? Until Giles had filled her in, she hadn’t even been aware that Spike was a vampire.

 

“Hello, William.”

 

“Buffy in?”

 

Joyce shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. You’ve just missed her. I think she was planning on going to the Bronze with the others. You could probably catch her there if you wanted to.”

 

“No, that’s alright,” Spike replied. The tentative truce he and Buffy had reached was holding, but only because she was doing her best to avoid him. The Slayer seemed intent on demonstrating that she could get by quite well without his presence.

 

His feelings weren’t all that hurt. Spike was getting paid to keep her safe, not to be her friend. And his word was gold. No matter how many temper tantrums Buffy threw, he wasn’t going anywhere.

 

Still, he thought it was only polite to let her know he’d taken care of the demons Giles had warned them about at their last meeting. Otherwise, she’d be spending the bulk of her evening wandering around and accomplishing nothing.

 

Oh, well. He’d tried.

 

“Do you want to come in?” Joyce asked. “I could make us a drink. Tea? Or hot chocolate?”

 

Spike hesitated. He liked Joyce. She was a sight more pleasant to be around than most of the people he’d encountered over the years. “You have any of those little marshmallows?”

 

“I can check.” She opened the door wide in a silent invitation. Spike ducked inside, going to sit at the counter. “What are you up to tonight?”

 

Spike shrugged. “The usual. Wandering about, killing demons, that sort of thing.”

 

“How are you settling in?” Joyce asked.

 

“Fine.” Spike watched as she fixed their drinks. “What about you?”

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“What about you? How are you coping with finding out about Buffy and everything?”

 

Joyce moved her shoulders, as though trying to adjust some great burden. “It hasn’t been easy,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’m always wondering when she leaves—” She stopped, unwilling to give voice to her concerns.

 

“Buffy’s good, you know,” Spike said, his tone conversational. “And she’s got me, for what it’s worth.”

 

“Why?” Joyce asked bluntly. “I mean, I know that Buffy and Mr. Giles said that you have a soul, but I don’t understand.” In an undertone, she added, “No one ever explains anything to me.”

 

Spike chuckled slightly. “You’re getting left out of the loop, I take it.” He watched her for a moment, not realizing that he’d completely let his guard down. Joyce met his eyes, a blue so clear she thought she could see the soul everyone had talked about.

 

Perhaps that was what drew her to this vampire. Angel’s eyes had been secretive, closed. Joyce hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse of the man underneath, and that had ignited danger signals her maternal instinct could not ignore. There was nothing fake about Spike, on the other hand. Nothing unreal.

 

He was open, his depths waiting to be plumbed.

 

“I am,” Joyce replied. “I know Buffy thinks she’s doing it for my own good, but it doesn’t prevent me from worrying about her.”

 

“You’re her mum,” Spike said, shrugging. “Of course you’re going to worry.”

 

“And you’re trying to distract me,” Joyce accused. “Why are you different?”

 

Spike sighed, considering how to answer her question. “I don’t rightly know, to be honest. I guess the soul is a little like a leash. It doesn’t completely keep a person under control, but most of the time it does. A vampire’s a creature that’s slipped its leash. If you put it back on—well, the shock does something to the system.”

 

“Was it very hard for you?”

 

No one had ever asked that question. Spike wondered if Joyce knew what those words did for him, what they loosed inside. “Yeah. It was bad.”

 

Joyce was a mother, first and foremost, and she knew a closed subject when she found one. Spike’s eyes had gone blank with old memories, and she thought she knew the look he had on his face. It was one she’d seen in the mirror on occasion when she’d been thinking about the divorce, or about some other event better left in the past.

 

There were truths you didn’t tell strangers, and so she asked no more questions.

 

“You know,” she began, wondering if she wasn’t just a little crazy for making the suggestion, “I was thinking about watching a movie tonight. Do you want to join me?”

 

Spike opened his mouth to say no, and then he closed it again. For the first time in a while, he felt safe—relaxed. He was in the company of a beautiful, gracious woman. There was no reason to hurry off. “That sounds right nice, Mrs. Summers. Thanks.”

 

“Call me Joyce,” she replied, relishing the idea of having company for the evening. Even if it was the company of a vampire.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy thought she was doing pretty good, overall. Maybe she hadn’t been all fun and games the last few weeks, but she was trying to get back in the swing of things. She’d slayed, she’d gone to the Bronze with her friends, and she had avoided social activities with the undead. It was just what she needed to get her life back on track.

 

After all, it was summer. She was supposed to be relaxing; it was her job. It was about time she got to it.

 

“It’s too bad Spike couldn’t make it tonight,” Willow commented idly. She would have been dancing, except that Oz’s band was playing, and Buffy didn’t seem inclined to grace the dance floor. There was no way she was going to do her impression of a third wheel with Xander and Cordelia.

 

Buffy’s head shot up at the mention of Spike’s name. “What do you mean?” she demanded, her tone sharp.

 

Willow’s expression was reproachful. “Never mind.”

 

“No, I’m sorry, Will,” Buffy said, making an effort to soften her tone. “It’s just—I wasn’t sure what you meant. Did you invite him tonight?”

 

Willow shook her head. “Not exactly. I just told him at the Scooby meeting that we’d be here. I thought maybe he would come.”

 

That was the one blot in an otherwise decent summer. Spike had begun inviting himself to their meetings, insinuating himself into the group. Buffy was trying to forget about his existence and he kept spoiling her plans by showing up. It really wasn’t fair.

 

“You like him?” Buffy asked, sounding incredulous.

 

Willow shrugged. “Why not? He saved our lives, and he’s pretty nice. You should give him a chance, Buffy.”

 

“He’s a vampire, Willow,” Buffy reminded her. “The last time I gave a vampire a chance, badness ensued.”

 

“I’m not saying sleep with him.” Willow made a face. “It’s just that it wouldn’t hurt you to be polite. Spike doesn’t have any other friends.”

 

“Spike is a card-carrying member of the undead.” Buffy was trying to be patient, but it was getting hard. “Undead people don’t have friends. They have drinking buddies.”

 

“If you say so,” Willow replied, knowing a losing battle when she was right in the middle of one. Even Xander wasn’t all that rabidly anti-Spike. Giles, after a lot of prodding, had told them a couple of the stories he’d heard as a Watcher, and Xander had later asked Spike point-blank if they were true.

 

Spike had shrugged. “Wasn’t a big deal at the time,” he’d insisted. “I was leaving the country anyway, and I knew a few of the back routes.”

 

“But then you went back!” Xander had protested, finding the flaw in that argument.

 

Spike had just smiled slightly. “Sure, but they were paying me, weren’t they? It’s not hard to be a hero when folks are lining up to give you money.”

 

Of course, he’d been paid in Riechsmarks, which weren’t worth the paper they were printed on outside of Nazi Germany. That’s what Giles had said. That’s what made the Council think that they were just tall tales.

 

A mercenary vampire was one thing, but one who took worthless money in exchange for lives? It wasn’t to be believed.

 

Willow wished Spike was just a little more forthcoming. He’d seen and done so much, she wanted to ask him all about it.

 

Buffy, of course, didn’t share her interest in history.

 

“I don’t get why everybody likes him so much,” Buffy muttered. “You guys weren’t that impressed with Angel.”

 

“Angel was different,” Willow responded, knowing that it wasn’t much of an answer. She could understand why Buffy had such a difficult time liking Spike. The vampire had a tendecy to poke fun at her any time he was in her vicinity. Buffy, of course, jibed back with an intensity that startled Willow at times.

 

Willow wondered briefly if Spike or Buffy realized that the tension running between them could easily turn into something else. Not that Willow was in a hurry to encourage any sort of romantic liasons. She had done that with Buffy and Angel, and look how that had turned out.

 

Still, it was an interesting thought, even if she’d never mention the prospect out loud.

 

“I’m going to patrol,” Buffy announced abruptly, pushing back from the table. “I’ll see you later.”

 

Willow watched her go, wondering if things would ever be the same again. It felt as though Angel’s ghost was a constant presence.

 

~~~~~

 

It was stupid. Buffy knew it was stupid, but she couldn’t help herself.

 

The dreams weren’t helping matters any. They wouldn’t leave her alone, and she was as terrified of them stopping as she was of them continuing. Seeing Angel every night kept the pain fresh, but she didn’t want to forget him.

 

She didn’t want to let go of her last connection to him.

 

There was no grave she could visit, so she went to the mansion. Its monolithic bulk seemed out of place in a town like Sunnydale—too big, too modern, and too archaic, all at the same time. Perhaps in a few months or a few years people would talk about it being haunted. Teenagers would dare one another to come after dark.

 

For now, however, Buffy had the place to herself.

 

There was no trace of Angel’s ashes. She hadn’t been thinking clearly enough to gather them up herself. Idly, she wondered if Spike had done it for some reason known only to himself.

 

She lowered herself to the floor and went over the fight again in her mind. No matter how many times she thought about it, no matter how many times she went over the details again, Buffy couldn’t make herself believe that she could have acted any differently.

 

She hated herself as much for that as for not saving Angel. Buffy wanted to blame herself; she wanted to point out a specific moment in time and say, “There. That’s what I might have done differently.”

 

She was too good a warrior for that, however. Buffy had done her best, and it hadn’t been good enough.

 

It frightened her to think that it might happen again.

 

Swiping a hand across her cheeks to get rid of any tear tracks, Buffy stood to go. There was no use in coming here anymore. Her time would be better served in hunting down the remaining demons and vampires in Sunnydale.

 

If Buffy was very lucky, she would run into Spike and manage to goad him into a fight. Sparring with him would be just what she needed to clear her head.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike whistled softly, the tune so soft as to be nearly indecipherable. An astute listener, had they been close enough, might have recognized the Ramones’ “Do You Wanna Dance?”

 

There was no one nearby, though. Really, Spike preferred it that way. At least, that’s what he usually tried to convince himself of. Once, a long time ago, he had thought differently.

 

Spike had learned the hard way that even the bonds of blood did not prevent betrayal.

 

Occasionally, over the years, there had been chances at friendship, but they didn’t last. He was immortal, and he had no desire to consort with others of his kind. Demons, as a rule, didn’t like vampires. They regarded them as second-class citizens, and his soul put him on the lowest rung of the ladder.

 

Spike was neither fish nor fowl—unwelcome among demons, regarded with distaste by other vampires, looked upon with fear and awe by humans.

 

And yet, for the first time since he’d been cursed, Spike didn’t feel that tension.

 

“Why are you in such a good mood?”

 

The sour tone jolted him out of his pleasant thoughts, and he glanced over to see Buffy glaring at him. “It’s a beautiful evening. Why shouldn’t I be happy?” He could, on closer inspection, see the faint traces of tears on her cheeks. Spike could understand why she’d be so put out on seeing another person’s happiness.

 

Apparently, Buffy’s frame of mind was such that she wasn’t going to let him go. “So where have you been? Painting the town red?”

 

“Matter of fact, I was with your mum,” Spike replied cheerfully enough. She seemed to want a fight tonight. Spike was feeling good enough to oblige her.

 

She frowned. “What were you doing with my mom?”

 

“Went to see you, and you weren’t there,” Spike said, looking off to the side, pretending to be distracted. “I thought I’d let you know I took care of those demons your Watcher was going on about.”

 

Buffy wasn’t mollified in the least. “Those were mine!” she protested.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow, tilting his head just slightly. “You put your name on them then?”

 

“Giles told me about the demons, Spike. It was my job to take them out.” Buffy was seriously pissed off at this point, although she couldn’t have pinpointed the exact reason. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate the help. It wasn’t even that Spike had taken the matter out of her hands.

 

In truth, it was just Spike.

 

“I thought I’d save you the trouble,” Spike said, knowing that his insolent tone would just serve to anger her further. “Give you a chance to find a bloke to ease off some of that tension.”

 

He didn’t get a chance to finish that thought because Buffy was after him immediately. From the expression on her face—half fury, half exultation—Spike figured he’d managed to give her exactly what she needed.

 

Spike, in turn, got to spar with the Slayer again. He would have to make sure they made this a regular tradition.

 

Of course, if Buffy actually carried out her threat to stake him, he’d never get that chance.

 

The Slayer managed to get past his guard somehow and they both hit the ground. She wound up straddling his waist, a stake poised above his heart. “You gonna do it, then?”

 

Spike waited, watching her carefully, wondering if she’d carry out her unspoken threat. If he had to dust, he thought he’d rather it be at her hands. She was a worthy opponent, even if they were supposed to be on the same side.

 

“No.” Buffy wasn’t sure why she didn’t stake him. She could have and then just pretended to be surprised at his disappearance.

 

It just didn’t seem right.

 

She rose slowly and then offered him a hand up. “You want to have another go?”

 

Buffy looked at him in surprise. “What?”

 

“You don’t get to practice on a real vampire, right?” Spike replied. “Why not spar with me? It would help both of us.”

 

“Not tonight, Spike,” Buffy replied, turning towards home. “I’m tired.”

 

“Well, of course not tonight.” Spike’s tone told her he thought she was being stupid again. He sounded like that a lot. “I just meant for the future.”

 

Buffy rounded on him. “Why won’t you just go?” she demanded. “Just leave me the hell alone! You know I don’t want you here. Why should making sure I survive matter so much to you?”

 

It was impossible to mistake the compassion in his eyes for anything else. Buffy didn’t understand it, and that angered her. Angel, even when he was playing cryptic-guy, hadn’t looked at her like that.

 

“You think you’re the only one that’s ever loved and lost,” Spike said quietly. “I know you’ll probably hate me for saying this, but you’re young, Buffy. You don’t think you’ll get past this because you never have before.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused him.

 

“Don’t I?” Spike asked. “In a hundred-odd years I’ve loved exactly three women. All three of them are dead now. I think that gives me some knowledge on the subject.”

 

Buffy narrowed her eyes. She didn’t want to believe him. She didn’t want to let his words penetrate to the heart of things. “What three women? Drusilla?”

 

“That’s one.” Spike regarded her from a long moment, his eyes suddenly opaque. Buffy couldn’t read the expression on his face. “My mum and a girl named Cecily make three.”

 

Buffy had the brief urge to tease him for including his mother on a list with his lovers, but something held her back. “What happened to them?”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Spike said brusquely. He had no intentions of ever telling the Slayer about his mother, or Cecily.

 

She considered arguing, and then shook her head, as though ridding herself of the questions. “How long did it take you?”

 

“What now?”

 

“How long did it take you—to get over Drusilla?”

 

Spike was startled by the question, although he supposed he probably shouldn’t have been. “I don’t know. She…by the time she was done with me, I couldn’t love her anymore.”

 

It was the most open thing he’d said to her, and Buffy could suddenly understand why the others might like him. Moments like this, it wasn’t all that hard.

 

“I get that.”

 

Something rather amazing began in that moment, although neither one of them was quite aware of it. All they knew was that it felt right.


	10. Chapter 10

**“The half moon shows a face of plaintive sweetness/Ready and poised to wax or wane;/A fire of pale desire in incompleteness,/Tending to pleasure or to pain:—/Lo, while we gaze she rolleth on in fleetness/To perfect loss or perfect gain./Half bitterness we know, we know half sweetness;/This world is all on wax, on wane:/When shall completeness round time’s incompleteness,/Fulfilling joy, fulfilling pain?—/Lo, while we ask, life rolleth on in fleetness/ To finished loss or finished gain.” ~Christina Rossetti, “The Half Moon”**

 

The rest of the summer passed in much the same way, Spike and Buffy fighting each other as often as they dusted vampires and slayed demons. There was no mistaking it for anything other than sparring after that night, however. This time, their truce was unspoken, but it held.

 

Of course, that didn’t stop Spike from winding Buffy up on a regular basis, and vice versa. It took Buffy a little longer to figure out what would get under Spike’s skin, but she soon found that the best way to go about it was to insult his car, his intelligence, or—if she was feeling really nasty—his prowess. If she could make the insult into a double entendre, all the better.

 

In spite of the constant sniping, or maybe because of it, they fought with remarkable accord, their movements almost synchronized.

 

Giles went out with them one evening, and he was convinced that their verbal sparring threw off their opponents long enough to make them easy targets.

 

Buffy, of course, responded that they were thrown off by Spike’s hair, since it glowed in the dark. Spike suggested that it was her shoes, since no normal person could fight in three-inch heels.

 

Since their opponents typically ended up dead, they would never know the truth.

 

What Buffy didn’t know—or chose not to notice—was that Spike was constantly over at her house, even when she wasn’t home. Joyce still called him “that polite young man,” despite knowing exactly what he was. Giles was even more entranced than ever after spending an evening plying Spike with expensive alcohol. It took a lot to loosen the vampire’s tongue, but he’d given the Watcher enough pieces that Giles could start putting together the puzzle.

 

Buffy could honestly say she didn’t care. Spike was nice to spar with, he could be trusted to look after himself on patrol, and he wasn’t hard on the eyes. More than that, she didn’t need to know.

 

Nothing much changed when school started. Snyder went around in a perpetually bad mood since he hadn’t been able to expell her, and Buffy had to work slaying around homework—well, the other way around, actually—but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before.

 

Of course, this year Joyce was aware of her extracurricular activities, and Buffy found that rather soothing. Her mom was definitely more understanding.

 

Still, it was the same thing all over again. Her grief over Angel was easing, there was a new guy on the horizon, and there was trouble heading her way.

 

Who knew that trouble would be named Faith?

 

~~~~~

 

Spike had been hearing the rumors for a while now. While he was tempted to do some investigating, he also had no desire to draw attention to himself. Spike wasn’t afraid, of course, but there were some kinds of trouble a guy didn’t need, especially if he had plans to stick around.

 

On nights when he went information-hunting, rather than demon-hunting, one name kept coming up over and over again. Mr. Trick was apparently a high-stakes player in Sunnydale, and Spike kept hearing that you didn’t get on the man’s bad side.

 

More disturbing than rumors of a master vampire setting up shop, were the faint suggestions that there was a bigger player than that. Someone so dangerous that not even his name was spoken aloud.

 

Master vampires were a dime a dozen, after all, and Spike had taken out his fair share. This new, mysterious player—that bothered him. He kept his mouth shut about it, though. There was no point in worrying the Slayer when they couldn’t do anything about it.

 

Over the course of the summer, Spike had developed a proprietary interest in Buffy, something that went beyond services rendered for payment. Partly it had to do with the fact that he really liked Joyce, and he would hate to see her hurt—which she would be if something happened to her daughter.

 

Partly it was the fact that her Watcher treated him like a man—like a colleague. Spike had basically taken over most of the physical duties that went into training a Slayer, and Giles seemed to think that they were in it together. Again, if something happened to Buffy, the Watcher would be devastated.

 

What it really boiled down to, however, was the fact that Spike was beginning to regard Buffy as _his_ Slayer.

 

Even if he couldn’t stand the girl some days.

 

The evening trouble rode into town, they were all at the Bronze. Spike had thought about joining them, but the last few times he’d been around the Slayer and her friends, she and Willow had been nattering on about some guy. He had sensed Buffy’s hesitation, and he understood it. Angel had left her badly scarred.

 

Still, Spike knew that the best way for the Slayer to get over Angel was to figure out that he wasn’t the only man in the world. He knew it, but that didn’t mean he had to like sitting around listening to them talk about the git.

 

He thought about finding the Watcher and having a drink, and then he frowned, uneasiness washing over him.

 

There was something coming. Spike just wasn’t sure what it was.

 

~~~~~

 

The next night found Spike at Giles’ flat. He had wanted to discuss some of his impressions with the Watcher, and was more than a little surprised at the first question out of Giles’ mouth. “Have you met the new Slayer?”

 

“New Slayer?” Spike asked, both eyebrows going up. “What are you talking about?”  


Giles frowned. “You didn’t know?”

 

“I wasn’t around last night,” Spike replied. “I was doing some info-hunting. That’s why I’m here—to share information.”

 

“Oh,” Giles sat, offering Spike a glass. “The new Slayer, Faith, showed up at the Bronze last night while Buffy and the others were there. I hadn’t realized you didn’t know.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Didn’t figure I needed to be there to watch the Slayer and her cronies giggle over the new bloke.” At Giles’ blank look, Spike added, “Who happens to be perfectly human.”

 

The Watcher shook his head, deciding that piece of information wasn’t something he needed. “Yes, apparently Faith was called after Kendra died. I hadn’t realized that the line would no longer pass on with Buffy.”

 

“Unless it’s split into two lines,” Spike argued. “It could be. We don’t know that.”

 

Giles nodded slowly. “Of course, there is no real way to test that theory.”

 

“I don’t plan on it getting tested.”

 

Spike’s hard tone surprised Giles, but he didn’t make a big deal about it. He had seen absolutely no signs of romantic affection between them, which he found reassuring. As much as he liked and admired Spike, he had no desire to see Buffy involved with another vampire.

 

“That makes two of us then,” Giles replied. “Still, you might want to look out for this new Slayer as well. She will be quite a bit of help to Buffy. It will be nice for her to have some of the pressure from slaying taken off.”

 

Spike, who had come to understand Buffy quite well over the last few months, wasn’t nearly so sure about that. Besides, he knew all about rivalries. Before he’d been cursed, his relationship with Angel had been complicated—filled with love and hate in equal measure.

 

Well, a certain kind of love, anyway. Perhaps “grudging affection” would be a better term.

 

“We’ll see,” Spike replied. “I’ll keep an eye out for her anyway, same as I’m doing for Buffy.”

 

“I would appreciate it,” Giles replied. “You said you had information.”

 

Spike shook his head. “Not as such, no. It’s more like I’ve heard rumors and I’ve got a feeling. I keep hearing about a Mr. Trick, but I think he might be the least of our worries.”

 

Giles didn’t look pleased to hear that. “Do you know much more?”

 

“That’s about it,” Spike admitted reluctantly. “I’ve kept my head down, but the demon world knows me. It’s not like they’ll sit down and tell me what I want to know. Whatever is going on, no one’s talking about it.”

 

Giles sighed. “Keep your ears open,” he instructed. “You still have a better chance at gathering information than any of the rest of us.”

 

“Will do.” Spike finished off his drink. “You want me to catch up with the Slayers tonight?”

 

“In light of what you’ve just shared, yes,” Giles replied. “They’re investigating some disappearances in the Sunset Ridge area. You’ll probably find them there.”

 

Spike stood, nodding shortly. “Then I’m off.”

 

“Spike.” Giles watched as the vampire paused and looked back. “Thank you.”

 

Some unknown emotion flashed in Spike’s eyes, and then the veil fell again. “Yeah.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy wasn’t sure if she appreciated the vampires interrupting her spat with Faith or not. On the one hand, it was probably better that they hadn’t started going after each other. At the same time, however, she had wanted to have it out.

 

Buffy had wanted to take her frustration out on Faith’s flesh.

 

She was absurdly grateful that Spike hadn’t been at the Bronze the previous night. Buffy had the feeling that Spike and Faith would get along marvellously, and she’d be on the outside yet again.

 

The fact that she understood why everybody liked Faith—she was fun, she was outspoken, she embraced life and slaying—didn’t make it any easier to swallow. Buffy knew she’d been kind of a drag over the summer; her friends didn’t have to go rubbing her nose in it.

 

She’d had to kill her boyfriend. Buffy thought that should entitle her to a little wallowing.

 

When Faith managed to charm the guy who’d been coming onto her—well, that was just the last straw right there. What Buffy needed was to ditch Faith and find Spike. If she could keep him away from Faith, that would be even better.

 

Faith was sticking to her like a limpet, however, and so Buffy didn’t have a chance to get away. The vampires seemed to come out of nowhere, and there were enough of them that it had her worried.

 

She was a little more worried when Faith started beating up one of the vampires, leaving Buffy at the mercy of the other two. “Faith! A little help here!”

 

Faith either ignored her or didn’t hear her, and Buffy stretched, trying to reach the two by four. She felt a thrill of fear when she realized it was just beyond her fingertips. Buffy turned her attention to the vampire holding her down, trying to remove herself from its grip.

 

The next thing she knew, the first vampire holding her down was dust. Buffy quickly broke the hold of the second, rolling six inches over, grabbing the two by four, and staking the last remaining vampire.

 

She turned just in time to see Faith attack Spike. He’d pulled her off the vampire she’d been beating to a pulp, and she was reacting badly. Faith was wild—totally insensible to his attempts to reassure her.

 

Buffy realized that Faith was going to use the stake she held, and Spike was hampered by his desire not to hurt her. She drove a stake through the heart of the last vampire and then pulled Faith away from Spike by the back of her jacket.

 

“Faith! That’s enough! Spike’s on our side.”

 

“He’s a vampire!” Faith shot back, still struggling.

 

Buffy dropped her stake and grabbed Faith’s arm. “He’s got a soul. Spike saved my life. You leave him a alone.”

 

Faith stopped moving, staring at Spike with unconcealed suspicion. “He looks undead to me.”

 

“Yeah, well, it’s a long story I don’t have time to tell,” Spike replied, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. Faith had gotten more than one hit through his defenses.

 

Faith shook off Buffy’s hand. “Get off.”

 

“What is wrong with you?” Buffy demanded, now that it looked as though Spike was safe.

 

Faith glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

 

“You!” Buffy shot back. “Beating that vampire to a bloody pulp while I’m about to die. If Spike hadn’t come along—”

 

“Funny, I thought beating on vamps was part of the job description,” Faith replied, shooting Spike a dirty look. “Maybe you’re in the wrong line of work.”

 

“Maybe you need to watch your partner’s back.” Buffy wasn’t backing down.

 

Faith just shrugged. “I thought you could handle yourself.”

 

She strode off into the darkness without a backwards glance.

 

“So that was the new Slayer, I take it,” Spike commented wryly.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “That was her.”

 

“I take it you aren’t entranced.”

 

“Did you see her?” Buffy demanded. “She almost got me killed.”

 

Spike shrugged. “She’s definitely got her issues, pet. Probably a good thing your Watcher sent me after you two tonight.”  


“Right,” Buffy muttered. “Because now I have to share you too.” At Spike’s raised eyebrow, she exploded. No one else seemed to understand how she felt about Faith, but for some reason, Buffy thought that Spike, at least, wouldn’t give her a speech about how she needed to be nice and share. “Everybody likes Faith. My friends think she’s the coolest thing since sliced bread, the guy that likes me likes her better, even my mom and my Watcher think she’s great. So what if I haven’t been fun-Buffy? It’s not like the last year has been all that wonderful. And now you and she will probably hit it off, and I’ll have to hear how wonderful Faith is from one more person.”

 

Spike listened to her entire rant without interrupting, his face expressionless. When Buffy finally wound down, he smiled. “Not gonna happen.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

 

“You’re my first priority, Buffy. I didn’t get asked to help Faith, or your friends, or anybody else. I got asked to make sure you were okay.” Spike shrugged. “You’re the reason I’m in this town, and you’re the reason I’m not going anywhere.”

 

She blinked. Buffy knew Spike was getting paid for this, or at least that he had been paid. She knew that this was business. At the same time, he was so honest, and so dependable, she couldn’t help but relax.

 

Spike was watching her back. Whatever remaining resentment she felt for him faded completely at that point.

 

Not that she’d be telling him that, of course. Fighting with him was too much fun.

 

Buffy gave him a grateful smile. Spike’s lip was still bleeding a little, and she figured he’d gotten beaten on enough for the evening. “So what do you think the deal was?”

 

“What? With Faith?” Spike frowned and then shrugged. “Don’t rightly know, pet. I’d say some kind of trauma. Where’s her Watcher?”

 

“Somewhere on England on a retreat,” Buffy replied. “Giles said he’s never been invited on one. Faith told me she wanted to come out and meet me.”

 

Spike considered that for a moment. “I don’t know. She sounds like she’s from out east. That’s a long way to come just to meet the great Buffy.”

 

He was teasing her, and Buffy punched him on the arm, much as she would have done with Xander. “Shut up.” Spike just grinned. “Did you catch what the vampire on top of me was saying?”

 

“Did I want to?” Spike asked, leering at her.

 

Buffy glared at him. “You’re a pig, Spike.”

 

“I’m a bad, rude man,” he agreed easily.

 

She rolled her eyes. This was more like it. “It was a name of some sort. Like Kissing Toast.”

 

It rang a bell, but Spike couldn’t quite place it. “Dunno,” he replied. “Might be the big player I’ve heard rumors of.” He gave her a sharp look. “You’ll be careful?”

 

“With you as my shadow, why would I need to be?” Buffy asked. He cocked his head. “Yes, I’ll be careful.”

 

Spike gave her a satisfied nod. “You do that. I’ll meet you at your place tomorrow after sunset. I’d feel better if I patrol with you over the next few days, ‘til we figure out what’s going on.”

 

“There’s always something going on, Spike,” Buffy replied. “We’re on the Hellmouth.”

 

“Then maybe you’d just better plan on me being around for quite a while.”

 

Buffy decided not to question the warmth she felt at those words.


	11. Chapter 11

**“What’s the best thing in the world?/June-rose by May-dew impearled;/Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;/Truth, not cruel to a friend;/Pleasure, not in haste to end;/Beauty, not self-decked and curled/Till its pride is over-plain;/Light, that never makes you wink;/ Memory, that gives no pain;/Love, when, so, you’re loved again./What’s the best thing in the world?/—Something out of it, I think.” ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “What’s the Best Thing in the World?”**

 

Life being what it was, Buffy was at Faith’s skanky motel room at sundown, instead of at her house, waiting for Spike. She wasn’t real happy about that either, since it was the second time in as many days that she’d had to give Scott Hope the brush off.

 

She thought she’d managed to salvage this meeting, though. A lie about a family emergency and a promise to talk to him the next day would hopefully tide him over. Buffy really did mean to go out with him. Scott was nice, normal, charming—and most importantly, he had a heartbeat.

 

Of course, deep down Buffy knew that trying to date a normal guy was futile. She would always have some apocalypse to avert, and you could only make excuses for so long before a boy would get tired of getting ditched for an emergency.

 

Buffy wanted to try, though. She wanted to get back on the horse, so to speak.

 

Tonight there was Faith to deal with. Faith, who was even now preparing to run again. “You’re just going to dump this on me?” Buffy demanded.

 

“You don’t know me,” Faith shot back. “You don’t know what I’ve been through, so don’t try telling me how to handle my problems.”

 

“Because running is such a good plan.”

 

“Yeah, well, there isn’t a better one, trust me.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Look, why don’t you come with me? We’ll get Spike and figure out how to take this Kakistos guy.”

 

“You can’t take him, B.” Faith shoved the last of her clothing into her bag. “Why don’t you let me take care of this?”

 

“Like you took care of your Watcher?”

 

The question stopped Faith cold, and Buffy knew it had been a low blow. She had to guess that Faith had some affection for her Watcher since she was so freaked out. Still, running wasn’t the answer. Buffy knew that much. Slayers didn’t run from the monsters; they killed them.

 

Even when the monster happened to be your boyfriend.

 

“Shut up,” Faith said. “You weren’t there.”

 

“No, I’m here.”

 

There was a pause, and Buffy thought she might have gotten through, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door. “What now?” Faith muttered as she opened the door.

 

Buffy could hear the low growl, and she saw the misshapen hand shoot through the doorway to latch onto Faith’s throat. She only had a moment to act, and she managed to shoulder her way in between Kakistos and Faith, slamming the door on Kakistos’ hand.

 

Putting the chain on, Buffy grabbed Faith’s hand. “I just bought us some—” She stopped as the hand ripped through the wood as though it was paper. “—time!”

 

Faith started screaming, and Buffy kept a tight grip on her. “We don’t have time to scream!”

 

Pulling Faith along behind her, Buffy just hoped that Spike would get her message from her mom, and that he wouldn’t be too pissed off when she found out they’d slayed Kakistos without him.

 

~~~~~

 

“What do you mean she’s not here?” Spike demanded.

 

Joyce often forgot that he was a vampire these days. He was always so nice to her that she lost sight of the fact that he was supposed to be scary. She took a step back. “William—”

 

“Sorry, luv,” Spike said quickly, “but I asked Buffy to wait for me. It was important. Did she say where she was going?”

 

“Buffy called and said to tell you she had to find Faith, that it was important, and that it had to do with someone named Kakistos. Do you know who she’s talking about?” Joyce watched him carefully, hoping that his temper wouldn’t cause him to go off again.

 

Spike frowned. The name rang a bell, as it had the night before, but the connection escaped him. It wasn’t anyone he had met before, of that much he was certain. “Is everything alright?”

 

The uneasiness in Joyce’s tone brought Spike out of his thoughts like a dash of cold water to the face. “Sure,” he replied. “It’ll be fine. I just have to find them.”

 

Spike didn’t wait for her response, hurrying off with a frown of concentration. He didn’t know where the other Slayer was staying, and he wasn’t sure where to start looking. Of course, if Buffy had needed to go out looking for the girl, that indicated that she wasn’t staying with the Watcher or any of the Slayer’s friends.

 

It took too much time to locate a payphone and call the motels in the area, longer still to settle on the cheap, run-down place off the highway. That was simply guess-work, since no one answered the phone in the office. Spike figured there might be trouble.

 

By the time he reached the motel—and saw the room with the gaping hole in the door—both the Slayers and whatever was after them were long gone.

 

Spike cursed, knowing that there was no way to catch up with the girls in time. He could spend all night hunting them down, or he could find Giles and hope for the best. “How the bloody hell does she expect me to keep her alive when she keeps running off?” he snarled, stomping off towards Giles’ flat. “Stupid bint won’t make it through the sodding year if she keeps acting the idiot.”

 

He hadn’t run out of things to say when he found himself in front of Giles’ door. “Spike,” Giles greeted him. “Where’s Buffy and Faith?”

 

“How the bloody hell should I know?” Spike demanded, still angry, although he couldn’t have precisely said why. “Told your Slayer to wait for me at her house, and when I get there she was already gone. Tracked them both to that shitty motel, and they were gone.”

 

“Gone where?” Giles asked sharply.

 

“Am I supposed to be psychic now?” Spike snarled. “Dunno. There was a big hole in the door, so I’m assuming that whatever is after them found out where they were. Not much I can do about it when I have no idea where they went.”

 

Giles would have liked to argue—would, in fact, have liked to insist that Spike go out and find them, but he knew the gesture would be futile. “Well, I’m sure they’ll show up here eventually.”

 

“What was it?” Spike asked. “Joyce said something about Kakistos, but I don’t think I’ve heard of him.”

 

“Kakistos is Greek for—”

 

“Worst of the worst,” Spike said, cutting him off impatiently. “I know that much. Plenty of vampires give themselves silly names to indicate how important they are.”

 

Giles shook his head. “This name was given to him. Kakistos is a vampire so ancient his hands have become cloven. Apparently, he killed Faith’s Watcher, and now he’s followed her here.”

 

“And he’s on their tails.” Spike swore again, and his language nearly caused Giles to blush.

 

“I’m sure two Slayers will be able to handle him,” Giles said with a confidence he did not feel. “Buffy is quite good.”

 

Spike didn’t respond. “This Faith didn’t tell you what was chasing her or what happened to her Watcher, did she?”

 

“No, she led us to believe her Watcher was on a retreat. The Council had no idea as to Faith’s whereabouts between the time of Miss Felton’s death and her arrival in Sunnydale.” Giles gave Spike a look. “What are you thinking?”

 

“I’m thinking I have to wonder about a bird who wouldn’t give at least a head’s up when she’s got something this big and bad chasing her down,” Spike replied.

 

Giles shook his head. “Faith was most likely traumatized by her Watcher’s death. Perhaps—”

 

“Perhaps you’ve got a loose cannon worth keeping a careful eye on.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy hadn’t known that she liked Buster Keaton so much. Scott was everything a guy should be: sweet, attentive, charming. She was just glad she’d managed to cover her shock when he’d presented her with the claddagh ring. Buffy was fairly certain that she’d managed to convince him that it hadn’t been about him. “A good friend gave me a ring like that,” she’d said. “He was killed this last spring.”

 

Of course, she couldn’t tell Scott that her “friend” had turned into a psychotic killer who had killed several people in their class. He’d never believe her anyway.

 

Scott left her at her front door with a chaste peck on the lips, and Buffy stood inside the door just long enough to be sure he was gone. She needed to see Spike, and she still needed to patrol. There was no getting out of that, even with Faith in town.

 

Besides, Buffy wasn’t so certain that Faith was as over her issues with Kakistos as she said. You didn’t just move on from something like that, no matter how much you might want to.

 

When Buffy showed up on his doorstep, Spike’s greeting was less than enthusiastic. “What do you want?”

 

“I came to see if you wanted to patrol with me tonight,” Buffy replied, wondering if he was going to allow her to come inside his house.

 

He stared at her for a moment before grudgingly moving out of the way. “I thought you had some hot date tonight.”  


“I did have a date.” Buffy shrugged. “We went, we saw, he walked me home. Now it’s time to patrol. You did say you wanted to go with me until we figured out what new big bad was in town.”

 

“You killed the new big bad,” he growled in reply. “And you’re going to listen to me now? What happened to that idea the other night when you were running off to face Kakistos?”

 

“For the record,” Buffy snapped, annoyed at his tone, “I didn’t go running off to face Kakistos. I went to find Faith, and then he found us.”

 

“You stood me up.”

 

“Things got crazy!” Buffy stared at him. “You of all people should know how that works. We got new information, and your little sunlight allergy doesn’t make you daytime friendly.”

 

“You could have called me,” Spike snarled. “How the bloody hell am I supposed to keep you alive if you go running off everytime something comes up?”

 

“That’s right, because this is a job,” Buffy said, oddly hurt. “You got paid to protect me, and I’m cramping your style.”

 

Spike actually growled at her. “It’s not just that. It’s—” Stopping, he turned away from her. “I’ll grab my jacket.”

 

Buffy grabbed his arm to prevent him from walking away. “No, Spike, what is this?”

 

“It’s not just about the job, okay?” He wouldn’t look at her. “It’s—I like your mum, and your Watcher is a decent bloke, and your friends are okay, too. Does that answer your question?”

 

Her hand dropped. “You care.”

 

“Don’t be making more of it than it is. It’s just about more than the money. That’s all.”

 

She could tell that even saying that much had cost Spike something. “Okay.” Buffy took a deep breath and added, “I don’t particularly want to see anything happen to you either.”

 

“I’ll grab my jacket,” Spike repeated, not bothering to respond to her statement.

 

They completed the first part of their patrol in silence until Spike asked, “What about the other Slayer?”

 

“She’s sticking around,” Buffy replied. “Giles is going to be her Watcher until they send in a replacement.”

 

“She staying with you?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy’s face showed how unlikely that scenario was. “No. I think she’s going to stay at that motel.”

 

“Right.” Spike frowned. He’d been in plenty of hellholes, and it was one of the reasons he’d chosen to actually buy a place. While he had no plans to stick around forever, it would be easy enough to either sell the place or just shut it up once he did leave. Spike had often thought it would be nice to have a little bolt hole. Sunnydale would do for that as well as anywhere else.

 

“What’s wrong with that?”

 

“Not a very nice place, that’s all,” Spike replied.

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d care. You and Faith didn’t exactly hit it off.”

 

Spike shook his head. “I’ve lived in places like that, luv, that’s all. I know what it’s like.”

 

Buffy was silent for a moment. “She hasn’t asked for help.”  


“That one wouldn’t.” Spike smiled a bit and shook his head. “She thought she could handle that Kakistos, didn’t she?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

There was another long pause. “You okay with her staying?”

 

“I guess.” She sighed. “Faith’s had it really rough, Spike. I mean, I lost a Watcher, so I know what it’s like. Maybe this will be good for both of us.”

 

“Maybe,” Spike said, his tone very neutral.

 

“Are you going to look out for her?”

 

“Your Watcher asked me to.”

 

“So are you going to?”

 

“Figure I will.”

 

“Then why are you with me?”

 

“Because you’re still my first priority.”

 

Spike’s very even tone had Buffy looking over at him, a smile appearing on her face. “You’re a good guy to have around, Spike.”

 

He didn’t reply to that, but Spike felt a flush of pleasure all the same. It was the first time in over a century that he felt like he had an actual partner.


	12. Chapter 12

**“I have been one acquainted with the night./I have walked out in rain—and back in rain./I have outwalked the furthest city light…I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet/When far away an interrupted cry/Came over houses from another street,/But not to call me back or say good-by…” ~Robert Frost, “Acquainted With the Night”**

 

Spike woke to find a message waiting for him on his cell phone. Buffy had asked him to meet them at the school library as soon as he possibly could.

 

He frowned slightly. Spike had patrolled with the two Slayers the previous night, but they had been talking about Buffy’s new boy-toy. When Faith had said all men were out for one thing, Spike had decided to call it a night.

 

Maybe he wasn’t human, but he was still a guy. He didn’t need to stick around for the male-bashing portion of the evening. He didn’t particularly care to hear about the wonders of Scott Hope, either.

 

What kind of a nancy-boy name was that, anyway?

 

It seemed as though Buffy and Faith had reached some sort of understanding, and the new Slayer appeared to accept the fact that Spike was not to be staked.

 

Spike had left to pursue his own interests, which had included a couple of beers at the Bronze and hustling a few brain-dead gits at pool. He’d made fifty bucks and killed a couple of vampires. It had been a fairly typical evening.

 

He might have tried to find Willow or Oz, but he’d remembered that the werewolf was locked up for the evening and the witch had a test the next day. So, after a few hours, he’d called it a night and had gone home.

 

The message from Buffy was just terse enough to have him taking the sewers to the school, although Spike was careful not to be seen as he navigated the tunnels. There had been a lot of underground activity lately, and he would rather not get caught by anyone.

 

Keeping a low profile didn’t come naturally, and it had been a difficult lesson to learn over the years, but it had stuck.

 

“What’s up?” he asked as he entered the library. The faces that greeted him were grim, and even Oz—who was typically nearly expressionless—didn’t look too happy.

 

Buffy sighed. “It looks like we have a small problem.”

 

“Oz killed a kid.” Xander blurted out.

 

Willow gave him a dirty look. “We don’t know that, Xander.”

 

“Slow down.” Spike took a seat at the table. “What exactly happened?”

 

“A student was found mauled to death,” Giles explained. “We don’t know for certain that it was Oz, but since the window was open, there’s no way to be sure it wasn’t.”

 

Spike frowned. “I thought somebody usually stayed with you,” he said, looking over at the boy.

 

Oz gave him a grateful look. Even though he understood why they were doing it, he didn’t care for the way they were all talking around him. “They do.”

 

“Xander fell asleep,” Willow said, still not looking too pleased with her friend.

 

Xander shrugged, looking extremely guilty. “It was just for a little while.”

 

Spike sighed. “So, what’s the plan? You want me to stay here?”

 

“Could you?” Buffy asked gratefully. “I thought Faith and I could patrol to make sure that there wasn’t anything else out there. It could easily be another demon of some kind.”

 

“Besides,” Willow added. “You’re a vampire, so you won’t fall asleep.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Being nocturnal goes with the territory. I don’t have a problem sticking around.”

 

“Thanks.” It was one word, but Spike could hear the tension in Oz’s voice.

 

“Whatever.” Spike shifted uncomfortably. “I still owe you for helping me find a place.”

 

Willow broke the uncomfortable silence that fell. “Okay, well, Xander and I are going to go examine the body, see if we can’t find anything there.”

 

“And I’ve got to meet Faith,” Buffy announced. “I’ll catch up with the rest of you tomorrow.”

 

A few minutes later, they were all gone. Giles left him directions on where he could find tea if he wanted it, and then left for home. Willow had tried to say goodbye to Oz, but he wasn’t in the mood. Spike couldn’t blame him. The idea that you’d killed an innocent—it wasn’t an easy burden to bear.

 

Spike would know.

 

Darkness fell, and Spike was left in the library with a werewolf in a cage. He decided to find a book to read to keep him occupied for the night, since it looked like he was going to be stuck there. Someone had left _The Call of the Wild_ on the central table, and Spike quickly found himself lost in the story.

 

After a few hours, the growls from Oz tapered off, and all Spike could hear were the sounds of the werewolf whining in his dreams and the dripping of a leaky faucet somewhere in the building.

 

It wasn’t the first time Spike had been asked to guard something—or someone. He generally appreciated the change of pace, even though he relished the thrill of the hunt.

 

“Spike?” The quiet voice called his attention away from the novel, and he looked up to see Willow watching him. “How are things going?”

 

He frowned, realizing that he had about an hour before the sun came up. “What are you doing here, Red? There’s still a few hours yet before class, yeah?”

 

“I wanted to be sure you got back home before the sun came up.” She came over to sit next to him on the table. “Thanks for staying.”

 

“It wasn’t a problem, pet,” Spike said gently. “There wasn’t any trouble.”

 

She smiled. “He’s really upset about this whole thing, you know?”

 

“Don’t blame him,” Spike replied. “It’s not easy to be out of control, and yet to know you’re responsible for any damage you do.”

 

“But he’s not responsible!” Willow protested. “Oz can’t help what he does while he’s the wolf.”

 

Spike shook his head. “You can’t draw that line, Red. My guess is that your boy knows that the wolf is with him all the time. It’s not something he can get rid of, even if it’s only in control three days out of the month.”

 

Willow shook her head, finding it difficult to accept that reasoning. “But—”

 

“Not saying that he’s guilty of killing anybody, just that you can’t always draw that line inside your own skull.” Spike was quiet for a long moment, unsure if he should share more. “After I got my soul, Angelus would taunt me. He’d try to get me to go back to what I had been. The very idea of killing someone made my stomach turn, and that’s not an easy thing for a vampire.”

 

Willow was silent, staring at him in rapt fascination. She seemed to sense what a momentous occasion this was for Spike to be telling this story. “So he starved me. Wouldn’t let me feed for weeks until I was so bloody hungry I went a bit mad.”

 

Spike stopped. He didn’t want to go on, to remember the expression on the girl’s frightened face when he ripped her throat out. It hadn’t been the first time that Angelus had done it to him, and Spike had grown better at controlling the hunger for longer periods of time, but a vampire needed blood.

 

There was always a breaking point, and Angelus had always made certain that they were bleeding when he thrust their bodies into Spike’s face.

 

“That’s not your fault either,” Willow protested. “You—it was Angel’s fault.” She fell silent for a moment. “Oh.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

Willow was quiet for a long time. “Will he be okay?”

 

“From what I’ve seen of him? Yeah.” Spike gave her a smile. Willow had never seen that expression on his face before—it was almost gentle. “He’s got you, Red.” Spike stood to leave, wanting to get back to his place before the sun came up.

 

“Spike?”

 

“Yeah, pet?”

 

Willow was silent, unable to find the right words to use in a situation like this. She was learning that sometimes there were no words. So she reached out, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

 

Spike stared at her for a second before squeezing back.

 

She couldn’t help but think that maybe she’d found the right words after all.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy liked Scott Hope. He was nice. He was sweet. He had a great sense of humor. If she were the kind of girl to make a pros and cons list, his pros would definitely outweigh his cons by a ton. She was totally ready for an undemanding relationship.

 

That didn’t really explain why she couldn’t quite feel comfortable with him. There was a slight disconnect there that she was trying really hard to ignore.

 

Slaying, thankfully, was good for things like that. When in doubt, distract yourself with demon-killing.

 

It was different when the “demon” in question turned out to be a fellow student and one of your boyfriend’s best friends.

 

When the school counselor’s body was found mutilated in the middle of the day, they were all relieved that Oz wasn’t the culprit. Of course, that left them with the dilemma of finding out who _was_ responsible.

 

Finding Debbie in the girls’ locker room, trying to cover a black eye with makeup, was definitely a major clue. “It’s tricky, covering a fresh shiner like that. You know what works?”

 

Debbie didn’t turn away from the mirror. She just continued to dab on foundation. “What?”

 

“Don’t get hit.” There was a small part of Buffy that wanted to sympathize. She knew what it was like to love a guy who treated you like shit. It had taken her a long time before she could get to the point where she could kill Angel.

 

Of course, that didn’t mean that she’d stopped loving him, and Buffy could honestly say that it was a part of herself that she hated. She hated that she’d loved Angel—even after he’d been responsible for Jenny Calendar’s death.

 

Maybe that was why she had very little actual sympathy for Debbie. Buffy had managed to kill the man she loved; Debbie couldn’t even tell the truth. The Slayer couldn’t afford sympathy when people were dying.

 

“What’s going on, Debbie?” Buffy asked, coming up to stand next to the girl, their eyes meeting in the mirror. “I’ll bet the farm you know.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted, turning to leave.

 

Buffy wasn’t about to let that happen. “You know, normally I’d understand needing to keep a secret. In this case, however, people are dying, and I’m betting you know why. So why?”

 

On the last word, Buffy gave her a little shake and a push, forcing Debbie to sit on one of the benches. Debbie shook her head. “No, it—it’s my fault. I make him angry. Pete just does it because he loves me too much.”

 

Willow stared at her. “But Jeff and Mr. Platt were killed by wild animals.” There was a pause. “Weren’t they?”

 

Buffy’s smile was cold. “Pete’s not like other guys, is he, Debbie?”

 

Debbie tried to stand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have to go.”

 

Buffy pushed her back down again. “No, you have to tell us what’s going on. We can’t help you until you do.”

 

“I didn’t ask for your help!” Debbie protested.

 

Willow looked incredulous. “Well, when were you going to? Because if you wait till Pete kills you, it’s pretty much too late.”

 

Debbie just shook her head, her eyes darting around the room, looking for an escape route.

 

Buffy definitely preferred dealing with demons. At least she got to beat the information out of them.

 

~~~~~

 

There were no messages waiting for Spike when he woke the next afternoon, which left him absurdly disappointed. He was planning on meeting the Slayers later for patrol, but he’d hoped that someone would have called him with news of Oz.

 

Spike dressed and ate, heading out as soon as the sun went down. In the Mustang, the trip to the school only took a few minutes, and he headed inside immediately. Something wasn’t sitting right with him.

 

It was just a hunch, but Spike paid attention to his hunches. His gut rarely led him wrong.

 

Although there had been a few occasions when his instincts had failed him, and his screw-ups had been spectacular.

 

Spike was glad he’d come when he saw the chaos in the hallway. Willow was sprawled on the floor, a snarling Oz heading straight for her. Faith had the dart gun, and she managed to shoot the werewolf just as he reached the fallen girl.

 

“Where’s Buffy?” he demanded, knowing that if there was more damage being done, Buffy would be right in the middle of things.

 

Faith shook her head. “I don’t know. She went after Pete.”

 

Spike didn’t know who Pete was, and he didn’t care. His job was to make sure Buffy didn’t die, and that just required finding her.

 

He caught the scent of blood as he headed back towards the library, and Spike detoured to follow the trail, figuring that there were good odds he’d find the Slayer.

 

What he found was the body of a dead girl, and Buffy facing off with a kid about her own age. There was something wrong with the kid, although Spike wasn’t exactly sure what it was.

 

“You’re all the same!” The shout was echoed with a backhanded punch that knocked Buffy into a stack of crates.

 

Spike didn’t wait; he waded into the fight, jerking the kid back by the collar and tossing him across the room. “Back off,” he warned.

 

The kid flew at him, swinging wildly, and Spike grappled with him, trying to gain some control. He was prepared to kill, but only if he had to.

 

Of course, you don’t always get what you want.

 

“He’s not human anymore, Spike!”

 

The sound of Buffy’s voice seemed to do something to Pete, who tried to get around Spike to rush her. Spike grabbed his head as he twisted around, letting Pete’s own momentum carry him forward.

 

There was a sharp crack as his neck twisted and broke, and Spike let the body drop to the ground in distaste. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” she replied, pushing herself up. Spike’s hand was under her elbow in the next moment, assisting her, making sure she was steady before letting her go. Buffy glanced at Pete’s body, then at Debbie’s. “He’s the one,” she murmured. “He killed three people because he loved her.” She stared at the twisted body of the girl. “And she loved him so much she let him.”

 

Spike shook his head. Somehow he knew that she wasn’t just talking about Debbie and Pete. “I don’t think that’s the way it works. I don’t think you can call that love.”

 

Their eyes met, and Spike stepped aside to let her precede him out the door. They both knew the pain that comes from loving dangerously.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike couldn’t settle after that. He’d left Buffy with a sympathetic Willow—Oz would sleep for the rest of the night, so there was no need to leave someone in the library. The Slayer would be fine. He’d done his job—she was alive and basically unharmed.

 

He never had been quite able to wrap his mind around the evil that people inflicted upon each other. Spike understood the lure of lawlessness, of course. He recognized the seductiveness of the dark, the corrosiveness of power—especially when you felt weak yourself.

 

Such wastefulness, though, death piled upon death—such a twisted kind of love—it didn’t quite make sense.

 

Or perhaps it did, and that’s what made him so uncomfortable. Maybe it made too much sense, reminded him too much of Drusilla.

 

She, too, had had a funny way of showing her love.

 

Needing a good hunt to distract him, and wanting to forget how it had felt to twist that boy’s neck, Spike set off to find some trouble. There was very little stirring in Sunnydale, and he was disappointed in the lack of action.

 

About an hour before dawn, Spike found a couple of fledglings to stake—pathetic creatures who were barely worth the effort.

 

“I was going to get those,” Faith said as he dusted the second.

 

Spike shrugged. “Have to be faster then.”

 

They stared at one another for a long moment, the silence tense. Suddenly Faith grinned at him. “I hear you had some good moves tonight.”

 

Spike relaxed slightly. He hadn’t been sure how Faith would react to him without Buffy around to play mediator. Although it’d be a rush to fight the girl, he didn’t trust her not to stake him, not like he’d trusted Buffy. “Wasn’t too hard. He was strong, but not much more.”

 

“Still, pretty crazy, huh?” Faith asked conversationally. “I mean, you don’t expect the demon to be a kid, right?”

 

“No, I don’t suppose you do,” Spike replied, falling into step next to her. “How are things?”

 

Faith gave a casual toss of her head, and the vampire could feel the sensuality coming off her in waves. “Five by five, blondie.”

 

They were standing in front of his car. “You want a ride?”

 

Faith smirked. “Wouldn’t mind.”

 

“Not that kind of ride.” Spike’s lips twitched, amused.

 

She gave an appreciative chuckle. “Some other time then.”

 

“We’ll see,” Spike said, getting in, watching as Faith slid into the passenger side.

 

Faith ran a hand over the dash. “Car like this’ll get a girl hot.”

 

Her eyes offered a challenge Spike was tempted to take. It had been a long time since he’d had a good shag, but there were certain rules that he’d set for himself. He didn’t mix business with pleasure on long-term jobs.

 

And Spike didn’t do children. Whatever Faith might think, she was barely more than a kid.

 

“Then I suppose you’ll be taking a cold shower.” He softened the words with a wink, and she laughed, recognizing that he wasn’t going to take her up on her invitation, at least not tonight.

 

Faith didn’t mind all that much. She loved a good challenge.


	13. Chapter 13

**“** **Time will say nothing but I told you so,/Time only knows the price we have to pay;/If I could tell you I would let you know./If we should weep when clowns put on their show,/** **If we should stumble when musicians play,/Time will say nothing but I told you so./There are no fortunes to be told, although,/Because I love you more than I can say,/If I could tell you I would let you know…” ~W. H. Auden, “If I Could Tell You”**

 

Buffy wasn’t all that surprised when Scott came up to her in the hallway at school, telling her that he couldn’t be in a relationship with her. She kind of knew that it was coming. It was just another example of how dating and slaying seemed to be mutually exclusive activities.

 

“You seem distracted a lot,” Scott told her. “Before we were going out, you seemed like a force of nature, but now…”

 

He trailed off, and Buffy sighed. She wished she could tell him that the whole force-of-nature thing was because she was one, and that it pretty much prevented her from giving her full attention to a guy. Especially if he was a guy who couldn’t go kill demons with her.

 

It had been silly to think that it would work. Scott was nice, but Buffy had more in common with Spike than she did with him.

 

Other than the fact that getting dumped just sucked in general, Scott had been insensitive enough to do it just before Homecoming.

 

Of course, Buffy was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Two of his best friends had just died, and she probably hadn’t played the supportive girlfriend the way she ought to have. There had been a rash of vampires in town recently, and patrol had been hopping.

 

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said finally. “I wish it had worked out.”

 

Scott nodded, not meeting her eyes, and hurried off. Buffy sighed, leaning wearily against the lockers.

 

Her life sucked.

 

~~~~~

 

Joyce didn’t much like fighting. She’d gotten her fill of that with Hank before their divorce. Although things had become more amicable since that time, it still didn’t sit well, especially when her daughter got caught in the middle.

 

That was why it was both a relief and a letdown when Giles immediately agreed with her. “Of course Buffy needs to spend time preparing for her SAT’s,” he said. “In fact, I was planning on helping her.”

 

Joyce took the cup of tea he offered her. “Thank you. I had thought—”

 

“Slaying is important, but so is Buffy’s future,” Giles said, interpreting her unfinished sentence correctly. “With Faith in Sunnydale, it might be possible for Buffy to go elsewhere for university.”

 

Joyce relaxed further. She had hoped to speak with Giles about Buffy’s chances at living a relatively normal life, and he had brought it up without any prodding from her. “I had hoped you would say that,” she admitted. “We’ll have to see how she does on her tests, of course.”

 

Her dubious tone caused Giles’ lips to twitch. “She might surprise you. Buffy often manages to pull a miracle out of her hat.”

 

She gave him a warm smile in return. “Oh, I know. I have faith in her. I’m sure if she didn’t have the slaying she would be doing much better in school.”

 

Giles winced reflexively. That wasn’t the first time Joyce had made a similar comment. “Yes, well—”

 

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that!” Joyce hastened to assure him. “School has never been Buffy’s highest priority, and saving the world is important. It’s just that sometimes I wish things could have been different.”

 

“That is entirely understandable,” Giles replied gently. He couldn’t help but think that Joyce was much more resigned to matters now than she had been. This wasn’t the first such conversation that they’d had.

 

Joyce laughed a little. “Oh, ignore me. It’s been a difficult week, and I’m feeling sorry for myself.”

 

“Is there anything I can do?” Giles asked.

 

“No, it was mostly the gallery.” She paused. “Plus, this is never an easy time of the year. Hank and I got divorced about this time.”

 

Giles leaned in a little. “Would you like to talk about it, perhaps? Sometimes it helps to have another adult to talk to.”

 

Joyce couldn’t help it; her heart leapt a little at that. She hadn’t wanted to appear needy, but she so needed someone to talk to. Spike hadn’t stopped in yet this week, and so there had been no one to share her burdens with. “I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

 

“I didn’t have any other plans for the evening.” Something in Joyce’s eyes gave Giles the courage to say, “Besides, why wouldn’t I want to spend time with a beautiful woman?”

 

~~~~~

 

“Being that distracted will get you killed, Summers.”

 

Spike’s voice came out of nowhere, causing Buffy to jump in surprise and proving his point. She whirled to face him. He stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression somewhere between amused and concerned. “You were sneaking,” she accused.

 

“Vampire,” he replied. “What else did you expect? If I’d wanted to kill you, I could have done it about three times by now.”

 

Buffy sighed. “Okay, you’re right. Patrol’s been dead tonight.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

 

“I’m good,” she said quickly. “Tired, maybe. I should probably just go home.”

 

“Buffy.” The single word stopped her, and she met his worried eyes. “You want to tell me what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong.”

 

“Which is why you didn’t even hear me kill two fledges while following you.”

 

She might have accused him of making that up, but Buffy could read the truth in his face. Spike had been watching her back all night, so she supposed she at least owed him an explanation. “Scott dumped me.”

 

Spike hadn’t quite been expecting something like that. His relationships tended to run along the lines of one-night stands, and he had little experience comforting others.

 

He was getting plenty of practice being around Buffy, however.

 

“Well, I guess that just proves he’s a complete idiot, then,” Spike said, trying to keep things light. The reluctant smile that crossed Buffy’s face indicated that he’d taken the right tack. “So what excuse did he give?”

 

“That I was distracted, not completely there with him,” Buffy replied. “I guess he’s got a point. There’s been a lot of vampire activity lately, so I’ve had to pull a lot of patrols, and I’ve been tired.”

 

Spike hesitated, then offered, “Maybe you’re better rid of him, then.”

 

“Maybe,” Buffy allowed. “It still sucks, though. We were supposed to go to Homecoming together, and now I’m dateless.”

 

“So get another date,” Spike replied. “There have to be dozens of guys who’d love to go with you.”

 

Buffy laughed. “Right. They want to go out with ‘that weird chick.’ Pretty much, no. Faith suggested we go stag together, but I don’t know.”

 

“Why don’t I crash this dance of yours?” Spike suggested.

 

Buffy stared at him in surprise. “What?”

 

“Major problem with going with another girl is that everyone knows you don’t have a date, right?”

 

Sometimes Spike’s understanding of very human matters surprised Buffy. She was fairly certain that Angel wouldn’t have gotten that, even though she probably would have been able to rope him into going with her. “Pretty much,” she agreed cautiously, wondering what Spike was thinking.

 

“So I show up, dance with you for a bit, and disappear again,” he suggested. “Everybody wonders who the mysterious stranger is, and you can just look superior.” Spike grinned at her. “Solves your problem.”

 

Buffy started laughing. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”

 

“What?” he asked, still grinning. “It’s a decent plan.”

 

“And it’s completely unnecessary,” Buffy replied, still smiling and shaking her head. Her face softened and then grew serious. “Thank you, though, for offering. That was nice.”

 

Spike mock-scowled. “I’ve told you, Slayer. I’m not a nice man.”

 

“Sure you aren’t,” she agreed, a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

 

He stood. “I’ll walk you home. Probably a good idea for you to catch up on your beauty sleep.”

 

Buffy glared at him. “Was that a hint?”

 

“Could be,” he replied with a smirk. They argued good naturedly all the way to her house. Spike prevented Buffy from going inside immediately by putting a hand on her arm. “Look, Slayer, keep an eye out. I’ve been hearing some rumors about some game a vampire is running. I don’t have enough information just yet, but—”

 

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled,” Buffy promised. She had her hand on the doorknob, but she wasn’t moving. Spike’s eyes were on hers, and the moment had taken on a tension that made her go still.

 

“I have to go,” Spike said, heading out into the night.

 

Buffy didn’t call him back even though she wanted to. She’d never thought she would be friends with a vampire before, but somehow that was exactly what had happened.

 

~~~~~

 

Not that Spike liked to admit it, but his soft spot for Buffy was growing. What had been strictly business was turning into something else entirely. He thought—maybe—they might even be friends. He didn’t remember ever having friends in the past.

 

There had been Anouk, but their relationship had been based on a common purpose. Buffy reminded him of the French woman at times. They were both focused, both warriors. At the end of the war, Spike had bid her goodbye and hadn’t looked back.

 

Anouk had never regarded the time they spent together as anything more than a diversion from the horrors of war. Spike had been careful to do the same. Although he’d cared for her, he had never loved her.

 

There was nothing diversionary about Buffy, however. She was the Slayer. She’d dated his bastard of a grandsire. Spike had no desire to get any closer to Buffy.

Still, protecting her wasn’t just a job anymore. It was becoming a calling.

 

“Bloody hell,” Spike muttered, pushing the matter out of his mind. It wasn’t as if he had to make any kind of decision yet. Keeping Buffy alive was turning into a full time job all by itself.

 

Especially with Slayerfest going on.

 

Spike scanned the faces in the school gym. He could see Willow, Oz, Xander and Cordelia, but there was no sign of Buffy or Faith. Picking his way through the crowd, he ignored the looks he was getting from the students. Some of the girls were regarding him with interest, but most of the teens were suspicious.

 

“Where’s Buffy?” he demanded as soon as he made his way to Willow.

 

Willow frowned, worried. “I don’t know. The limo was supposed to pick up Faith and Buffy first, and then come for us, but it never showed.”

 

Spike didn’t like the sound of that. “At least Faith’s with her,” he muttered. “Is Giles here?”

 

Willow shrugged helplessly. “Somewhere around here. He’s supposed to be chaperoning.”

 

The vampire took off, looking for the Watcher in the crowd, finally spotting him near the punch. “Rupert, we need to talk.”

 

Giles stared at him. “Spike? Is everything alright?”

 

“Do you think I’d be here if it was?” Spike tugged on his arm, pulling him to one side of the room, as far away from prying ears as he could get. “I’ve got some information. Seems like a vampire in town put a price on the Slayers’ heads.”

 

Giles’ eyes widened. “Are you certain?”

 

“As certain as I can be,” Spike replied. “I’d heard something big was coming, but didn’t have any of the details. Willow tells me the Slayers never showed.”

 

He frowned. “They didn’t? I had assumed they were coming separately.”

 

Willow and Xander had sidled up next to them. “What’s going on?” Xander asked, sounding more than a little nervous.

 

“You didn’t tell me that Buffy and Faith never arrived,” Giles said.

 

Xander and Willow exchanged a guilty look. “There’s been a lot going on tonight,” Willow said. “We thought that maybe they decided not to come.”

 

“Xander! Why aren’t we dancing?” Cordelia asked. “What’s going on? Is the world ending again, because it can’t end before I get crowned.”

 

Spike stared at her, then decided ignoring the girl was his best option. “Why didn’t you say anything about the limo not coming?”

 

“Oz ended up having to come early,” Willow explained. “I decided it would be better to stick close to him.”

 

Spike’s eyes narrowed. There was something she wasn’t telling him. She and Xander were lying about something. He could smell it. “What about you two?” he asked, looking at Xander and Cordelia.

 

“When the limo was late, I drove,” Cordelia explained. “There was no way I was going to miss my big night.”

 

The vampire rolled his eyes. “Some friends you lot turned out to be.”

 

“What would you suggest?” Giles asked.

 

Spike sighed. “Dunno. They could be anywhere at this point, and neither one of them has a cell phone.” He glanced around the room. “Only thing I can think of is to sit tight. They’re probably together at least.”

 

“Let’s go back to the library,” Giles suggested. “If Buffy can call, that’s probably where.”

 

Spike nodded shortly, following the Watcher out of the crowded room. Willow and Xander were on Spike’s heels. “What should we do?”

 

“Stay put,” he ordered brusquely. “It’s better if you’re safe here than out where we’ve got to worry about you.”

 

He marched off, leaving the two teens looking rather disconsolate. “They wouldn’t have to worry about us,” Willow protested. “We can take care of ourselves.”

 

They looked at each other, and Xander sidled away. “I need to get back to Cordy,” he said quickly, hurrying back into the gym.

 

Willow leaned up against the wall, hardly believing what they’d done. She’d kissed Xander. He’d kissed her. Once upon a time, it would have been a dream come true, and now it was her worst nightmare. She had never wanted to cheat on Oz.

 

Willow had no idea how she was going to fix this one.

 

~~~~~

 

This was why Faith didn’t normally wear dresses. It was a pain in the ass to fight in one.

 

“What have we got?” Buffy asked, glancing out the window of the cabin.

 

Faith held up the phone in triumph. “Who do you want to call?”

 

“Call Spike’s cell,” Buffy said. “I don’t know if Giles will be in the library or not.”

 

“You have his number?”

 

Buffy ran over, dialing from memory. “Spike?”

 

“Slayer? Where the hell are you?”

 

“A cabin in Miller’s Woods,” Buffy replied. “We’ve got people hunting us.”

 

“I know. Look, can you sit tight? I can be there in a few minutes.”

 

“We’ll try,” she said. “No promises, though, I—” Buffy threw the handset down. “Dammit!”

 

“What?” Faith gave her a look.

 

Buffy shook her head. “The line went dead.”

 

“Shit,” Faith muttered. “What about the vamp? He going to be here?”

 

Buffy sighed. “I don’t know. He’s supposed to be. Spike said to sit tight, and he’s going to come get us.”

 

Faith gave her a grudging nod. “Might be a good idea to wait for transportation.” She stripped the corsage off her wrist. “Wish I’d gone butch and worn pants tonight.”

 

“I hear you,” Buffy replied. “I certainly won’t be wearing this dress again.” She pulled her corsage off too, then paused. “Faith. This is how they were tracking us.”

 

Faith looked at her own corsage. “Son of a bitch. What now?”

 

“I think it’s time to change the rules.” Buffy tossed the arrangement on the floor, stomping on it hard. “Let’s go.”

 

“What about Spike?” Faith asked.

 

Buffy just grinned. “If I know Spike, he’ll still manage to find us.”


	14. Chapter 14

**“A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne/From year to year until I saw thy face,/And sorrow after sorrow took the place/Of all those natural joys as lightly worn/As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn/By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace/Were changed to long despairs, till God's own grace/Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn/My heavy heart. Then thou didst bid me bring/And let it drop adown thy calmly great/Deep being!...” ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “Sonnett XXV”**

Once again, Spike followed the scent of blood, soon locating a man frantically trying to get his leg out of a bear trap. “What have we here?”  

“You have to help me,” the man said. “These girls—they’re crazy. They just left me here.”

 

Spike’s face shifted. “You wouldn’t be talking about the Slayers, would you?”

 

The hunter’s face hardened. “Good luck finding them,” he snarled. “They’ll dust you so fast—”

 

“You don’t understand,” Spike replied. “I’m on their side.” In another moment, Spike had made certain that the man wouldn’t be hurting anyone ever again. He figured that anyone who’d hunt a couple of teenage girls for money didn’t deserve a second chance. That, and he was hungry.

 

He kept hunting, following the faint scent of Buffy’s perfume. Spike heard the creak of a branch above him right before a heavy weight landed on his back. He hit the ground face first. “Oof!”

 

“Spike.” Buffy scrambled off of him. “You came.”

 

“Yeah. Told you I would,” he said, pushing himself off the ground and brushing himself off. “Where’s your partner in crime?”

 

“Killing me a demon. Where else?” Faith asked, emerging from the shadows. She held a nasty looking blade. “Grabbed a knife from the yellow-skinned guy.”

 

“How many others?” Spike asked, glancing around.

 

Buffy shook her head. “The guy in the bear trap said there were two Germans who were working together and a vampire couple.” She gave Spike an apologetic look. “I thought you were the vampire.”

 

“Well, yeah, but not the one trying to kill you,” Spike said sarcastically. He glanced around the deep shadows of the woods. “I’m thinking we might want to get back to the school. Being out here gives them the advantage.”

 

Faith shrugged. “Might not be a bad idea,” she allowed. “Nature gives me the wiggins.”

 

“Let’s go,” Buffy agreed, falling into step behind Spike as he led the way back to his car. “How did you find us?”

 

“You found me,” he replied, smirking at her over his shoulder. When Buffy gave him a dirty look, Spike shrugged. “I ran into that bear trap fellow. Not hard to follow your scent from there, and then you dropped down on me.”

 

“Where were you when I called?” Buffy asked.

 

“At the school,” Spike replied absently. “Heard about this thing at the last minute, and I wanted to find you, make sure you were okay.”

 

Buffy frowned. “What about everybody else? I figured they’d freak when the limo didn’t show up.”

 

“They were probably too busy necking with each other,” Faith cut in.

 

Spike snorted. “You might not be too far off. Turns out Willow decided to head over to the school early with Oz, and Cordelia wasn’t about to be late for her big night.”

 

“Please,” Buffy said. “She was buying her votes.”

 

Spike smiled at her. “You didn’t run?”

 

“When do I have time for that?” Buffy asked. “I’m so above that.”

Faith and Spike stared at her.

“Okay, I’m not above it. It just didn’t seem worth it. At least I got my picture in the yearbook.”

 

Spike slid in behind the wheel, waiting until the Slayers closed the car doors before he roared off. “We’ll get some weapons and then see what we can do about hunting the bastards down, yeah?”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” Faith said. “I’m ready for a good fight.”

 ~~~~~

 

The good fight Faith was expecting turned out to be pretty disappointing. Lyle and Candy Gorch, the vampire couple the Slayers had been warned about, were ridiculously easy to take care of. Spike didn’t plan on letting Giles forget that they had caught him unawares any time soon.

 

Unfortunately, even without the tracking devices in the corsages, the Germans proved capable of following the Slayers back to the school. After the first shot was fired, Spike ordered the Slayers to remain in the library.

 

“Are you kidding?” Buffy demanded. “They’re out there, and—”

 

“They’re human,” Spike said flatly. “Are either of you ready to take down an armed man with a gun?” There was a long silence. “That’s what I thought. Stay put.”

 

Spike didn’t mind living off of pigs’ blood. When he could manage it, he liked getting the spare bags from the hospital. Blood just past its use-by date wasn’t too bad, although it was never quite as good as getting it from the source.

 

That was why he relished taking it straight from the tap.

 

Spike had long ago decided that some humans didn’t deserve to live. He didn’t actively hunt humans these days, simply because he wasn’t about to appoint himself judge, jury and executioner. He had no trouble eating someone in self-defense, however.

 

This was how he’d made his living the last hundred years. He had hunted men—and women—who had made it their business to kill others. Spike’s job, a lot of the time, was to kill them first.

 

Spike was very good at his job.

 

The Germans were so reliant upon technology, they didn’t notice the vampire sneaking up behind them. Spike had his teeth buried in the first one’s throat before the man knew anything was there. The second one went down just as quickly, and he dragged both of the bodies outside and stuffed them both in a dumpster.

 

Giles was conscious by the time Spike made it back to the library. “What did you do with them?”

 

“I took care of it,” Spike replied. “They won’t be doing any big-game hunting again.”

 

Giles frowned. “Spike—”

 

“They were hunting two adolescent girls,” Spike said patiently. “Did you want me to slap them on the wrist?”

 

“Never mind,” Giles replied with a sigh, recognizing that Spike might be right in this situation.

 

“Where are the Slayers?” Spike asked.

 

Giles nodded towards the door. “They went to see the coronation. I think they wanted to be there for Cordelia.”

 

Spike nodded, suddenly feeling the distance. They were children, and they still belonged to this world.

 

He didn’t, and he couldn’t fool himself into thinking that he did.

 

“I should get going,” he said.

 

Giles felt a pang. “Wait, Spike. Thank you. That little mess could have turned out much worse.”

 

“Just doing my job,” Spike replied, shrugging his shoulders.

 

“Would you like a drink?”

 

Spike hesitated, then turned. “Didn’t think you kept alcohol here.”

 

“It’s a special occasion,” Giles replied.

 

“What’s that then?”

 

Giles shrugged. “Well, if Cordelia has won, that would suffice. If she hasn’t, that would probably mark the first time in the history of the world that she hasn’t gotten what she wanted.”

 

Spike chuckled. “Yeah. I could use a drink.” He had long ago learned to take the moments of respite where they came, moments of camaraderie when you could.

 

They were rare in the sort of life he led.

 

~~~~~

 

Mayor Wilkins finished off his well-balanced snack and meticulously cleaned his desk of any stray crumbs, brushing them into the wastebasket. He then took out a moist towelette and wiped off his hands. The working environment was very important.

 

Cleanliness was next to godliness.

 

Well, in his case, it wasn’t, but that was hardly the point. The point was that he had quite a bit to get done in the next few months, goals to reach, and a structured working environment was the best way to stay on track.

 

The Mayor leaned back in his chair, considering his options. Mr. Trick had proven himself quite creative. SlayerFest, even though it hadn’t been successful, had certainly kept those girls hopping. He needed another diversion, and it looked as though the dapper vampire might be capable of providing it.

 

Those Slayers weren’t his only problem, however. Mayor Wilkins was well aware of Spike’s presence and his reputation. Had this not been an Ascension year, the Mayor would have left well enough alone. An element such as Spike provided was usually good for business.

 

Angel, now, he wouldn’t have been so bad to have around. That vampire had been so besotted with the blonde Slayer that he was either following her around like a big dog or trying to kill her. Spike showed no indication of having the good taste to do the same.

 

Mayor Wilkins folded his hands in front of his face, thinking deeply. It wasn’t critical to get the Spike out of his way as of yet. An operation like this needed to be handled carefully. If it was unsuccessful, the Mayor knew he would tip his hand early, which wasn’t what he wanted at all.

 

At least, not before everything was in place.

 

~~~~~

 

“Come on, Spike.”

 

“I’ve been warned about you, Slayer.”

 

“You’ve never seen me!”

 

“Your mum tipped me off.”

 

“She didn’t!” Buffy protested, then frowned. “She totally did, didn’t she?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Did you really think I was going to let you drive my car?” he asked. “You could be Mario Andretti, and I still wouldn’t let you get behind the wheel of my baby.”

 

They were approaching Buffy’s house at this point, having been arguing all the way from the cemetery. Buffy was determined to find someone to teach her how to drive; Spike was equally determined not to be that someone.

 

Buffy knew a good opening when she saw it. “You love your car more than me.”

 

“Well, yeah,” Spike shot back. “The car didn’t nearly get me killed tonight.”

 

“That totally wasn’t my fault,” Buffy pouted. “I told you to duck.”

 

“After that crossbow came within an inch of ending my unlife,” Spike said, opening the door for her without thinking about it.

 

Buffy gave him an odd look, but decided not to question Spike’s good manners. “I already told you I was sorry.”

 

“That’s not the point. The point is that a crossbow is much easier to operate than a car, and I’m not letting you operate mine.” Spike saw Joyce. “Back me up here.”

 

Joyce looked at her daughter with a silent apology. “Sorry, sweetheart. If Spike won’t let you drive his car, you’re out of luck.”

 

“I’m old enough,” Buffy replied. “I’m responsible.”

 

“You failed the written test,” Joyce pointed out. “They wouldn’t even let you take the driving test.” She frowned. “I thought you were studying this evening.”

 

Buffy plopped down in one of the kitchen chairs. “I did study. For hours. Then Spike came and rescued me so I could go on patrol.”

 

“What about Faith?”

 

“Who knows where Faith is?” Buffy asked. “She disappears occasionally. This is one of those occasions.”

 

Spike smiled at Joyce, turning on the charm. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m fairly certain I saved Rupert from an early death. Your daughter looked like she was about ready to implode and take the library with her.”

 

“Totally,” Buffy agreed. “I told you Spike rescued me.”

 

“And Rupert.”

 

The emphasis that Spike placed on the Watcher’s name had Joyce giving him a sharp look. It wasn’t as though they were hiding the fact that they got together occasionally to discuss Buffy—among other things. It simply hadn’t come up in conversation.

 

Joyce was fairly certain that it wasn’t a discussion she wanted to have with her daughter. In Buffy’s words, she would “totally wig.”

 

Spike just smiled. The older woman decided to let it go. “Would you two like something to drink?”

 

Spike shook his head. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

 

“Sit,” Joyce replied. “It’s no trouble.”

 

Spike listened as Joyce and Buffy bantered back and forth about the upcoming test and the possibility of attempting to get a driver’s license. Times like this made him forget that he didn’t belong in their world.

 

Not that it bothered him to forget. Spike had long ago discovered that not remembering was sometimes for the best.

 

~~~~~

 

“So how many candy bars did Buffy con you into buying?” Joyce asked the next night when Giles arrived.

 

He smiled ruefully. “The rest of the box. She pointed out that selling the band candy took away vital patrol and study time. You?”

 

“The same,” Joyce replied. “And for virtually the same reasons.” She offered him half a bar. “They really are very good, however.”

 

Giles took the chocolate and started munching on it. “Oh, indeed. I think I’ll get my money’s worth. Besides, I’m always willing to help Buffy with Snyder.”

 

“He’s such an awful little man,” Joyce agreed. “I hope Buffy sold hers faster than anyone else. I know he has it in for her.”

 

Giles let his hand rest casually on Joyce’s thigh. He wasn’t sure where his courage was coming from, but he wasn’t in the mood to question it.

 

Nor did he wish to question the fact that she shifted just a little bit closer to him.

 

“You know what they say about power,” Giles said, letting his hand creep up her leg another couple of inches.

 

“What’s that?”

 

What was turning into a very nice moment was interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming. “Okay, I’m done studying for tonight,” Buffy announced without preamble. “Willow pronounced me sufficiently smart.”

 

“Really?” Giles asked, his eyebrows raised as Buffy entered the living room.

 

Buffy frowned at the sight of her mom and her Watcher sitting so close together on the couch, but then decided to ignore it. There were some things it was just better not to look at too closely. “Well, she said we couldn’t really do any more because I wasn’t focusing,” Buffy admitted. “But, hey, that was hours worth of prep right there.”

 

“And patrol?” Joyce asked.

 

Buffy stared at her. “You asked Spike to take it for me until the SAT is over with,” she reminded her mom. “Last night.”

 

“Oh, that’s right,” Joyce said. “That was just my age talking.”

 

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Everything is fine, sweetie,” Joyce replied.

 

Buffy felt like something was up, but she had no idea what it was. “I’m going to go to bed,” she announced, eyeing the two of them. “Good night.” Buffy almost added an admonition to be good, but she thought that might be overdoing it.

 

Come on. It was her mom and Giles. That would just be too weird for words.


	15. Chapter 15

**“’Tis true, ’tis day; what though it be?/O wilt thou therefore rise from me?/Why should we rise because ’tis light?/Did we lie down because ’twas night?/Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,/Should in despite of light keep us together…Must business thee from hence remove?/O, that’s the worst disease of love./The poor, the foul, the false, love can/Admit, but not the busied man./He which hath business, and makes love, doth do/Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo.” ~John Donne, “Break of Day”**

 

Buffy’s sense of wrongness only increased the following day. Not only did Giles not show up for study hall—a sure sign that hell was freezing over—but Mrs. Barton was acting like one of her students.

 

As weird as it was, though, Buffy wasn’t sure she ought to complain. After all, they had managed to get out of study hall early, and no Giles meant no training. And that meant lots of time to hang out with her friends.

 

Still, it was a Slayer’s duty to make sure her Watcher wasn’t dead or sick or possessed by an evil demon, so she headed over to Giles’ apartment right after Mrs. Barton released them for the day.

 

Her unease only increased when she found her mom there with him.

 

“Giles, where were you?” Buffy demanded. “You never pull no-shows. And why is my mom here?”

 

Joyce waved innocently. “Oh, hello, honey. How was your day?”

 

“Fine, but—”

 

“Your mother wanted to discuss your training with me,” Giles explained smoothly. “She’s concerned about how you’re doing, of course.”  


Buffy frowned. It _sounded_ perfectly logical.

 

Joyce smiled. “I’m just trying to get to know more about your life, sweetie.”

 

“Right,” Buffy replied. “So you’re hanging out with my Watcher?”

 

“We’ve been spending time together for a while now,” Giles replied. “Joyce wants to learn more about what the Slayer is and does.”

 

Buffy nodded slowly. Something was up. She knew something was up.

 

And then Joyce dangled the car keys in front of Buffy’s nose. “Why don’t you take the car?” she suggested. “Mr. Giles can drive me home.”

 

All thoughts of weirdness flew out of Buffy’s mind. She was seventeen, after all, and the opportunity to have the car pushed everything else aside. In fact, she was suddenly very much in a hurry to leave, just in case her mom changed her mind. “Okay! Thanks! Have fun!”

 

Giles and Joyce gave twin sighs of relief as the door closed behind Buffy. “Finally,” Giles muttered, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up.

 

“Do you think she noticed anything?” Joyce asked, tipping a bottle back and taking a few quick swallows.

 

Giles smirked. “No way.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike twisted around, looking at a passel of businessmen who were acting like monkeys. Or schoolboys just let loose for the summer holidays. All around him, there were adults running amok, acting like—like children.

 

“And not particularly well-behaved children, at that,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing. Amusement was warring with annoyance, and Spike wasn’t quite sure what he ought to be doing about the incipient chaos. Something was obviously going on, and things were beginning to get out of hand. People were out wandering the streets after dark, leaving themselves open to attack by enterprising vampires. He stood, undecided, for a few moments before heading towards the Bronze.

 

In a situation like this, Spike wasn’t certain that he needed to interfere, but he figured the Slayer would have more information. If Buffy wasn’t at the Bronze, he’d try to find her at home.

The Bronze was packed to the gills with people of all ages. Spike noticed that the majority of the people seemed to be older. The club was usually full of adolescents and college students, not their parents.

 

Spike spotted Oz coming out from the back. “Oz.”

 

“Hey, man,” the boy greeted him, his eyes taking in the scene.

 

“You know what’s going on?”

 

“I’d say they’re all acting like teenagers,” Oz observed. “It’s quite sobering.”

 

Spike snorted. “This isn’t normal, even for the Hellmouth.”

 

“Won’t argue with you there,” Oz replied, leading the way over to the spot where Willow and Buffy were taking in the sight of the town’s adults making out, dancing wildly, and drinking like frat boys.

 

“This is disturbing,” Willow said. “I don’t like this.”

 

Oz put a comforting hand on her arm. “It’s a little mixed up.”

 

“It’s more than a little mixed up,” Buffy commented, looking at Spike. “What about you? You’re not feeling the urge to start acting sixteen, are you?”

 

If Spike could have blushed, he probably would have. As it was, his expression was very sheepish. “Bloody hell, I hope not,” he replied. “I wouldn’t be any use at all.”

 

Buffy gave him a curious look, but Spike refused to meet her eyes. “Let’s get out of here. This place is giving me the wiggins.”

 

They were making their way out when a voice called out behind them, “Hey! Wait for me!”  


“Who’s that?” Spike asked, glancing behind him to see a short, bald man frantically trying to follow them.

 

“Principal Snyder,” Willow explained.

 

Buffy grimaced. “That’s probably the creepiest thing I’ve seen tonight.”

 

“It explains a lot, though,” Oz observed.

 

The sound of “Louie, Louie” being tortured followed them out the door, and Spike winced. “Don’t think my ears could stand much more of that.”

 

“Right there with you,” Buffy replied. She took out the keys to her mom’s Jeep. “Okay—”

 

“No.”

 

The Slayer stared at Spike. “What?”

 

“You’re not driving. Give me the keys.”

 

“Spike, my mom—”

 

“Was probably operating under the same stupid spell or whatever it is that the rest of them are under,” Spike replied, holding out his hand for the keys. “If she’d been in her right mind, she wouldn’t have let you drive.”

 

“That’s so totally not fair!”

 

“Why don’t we let Spike drive?” Willow chirped. “He’s a really good driver.” At Buffy’s glare, Willow gulped. “Not that you aren’t.”

 

Buffy scowled but handed the keys to the vampire. “I can _so_ drive.”

 

“If you can find a car to learn on, I’ll take you out driving,” Spike said. “But we’re doing it where you can’t kill yourself or anyone else.”

 

Buffy pouted. “Fine.”

 

“Where are we going?” Spike asked.

 

“Giles might know what’s going on,” Willow said hopefully.

 

Buffy frowned. “Unless he’s sweet sixteen again,” she replied, buckling up.

 

“Hey! I told you guys to wait up!” Snyder was standing outside the passenger window, glaring at them.

 

“Sorry, Snyder,” Buffy said sweetly. “No more room in the inn. Beat it.”

 

Spike took that as his signal to start driving, leaving Snyder in the dust. Oz took up the conversation where they’d left off. “Even if Giles is sixteen again, he’s still Giles, right?”

 

“Not exactly,” Buffy hedged.

 

“What?” Oz asked.

 

Buffy sighed. “When Giles was sixteen he was more Rebel Without a Cause.”

 

“Buffy, he’s with your mom,” Willow pointed out.

 

“Rupert and Joyce are together?” Spike asked, an eyebrow raised.

 

Buffy glared at him. “Don’t say it.”

 

“Wasn’t going to.”

 

Willow looked from one to the other from her spot in the backseat. “What?”

 

“Just saying that if you leave two teenagers alone together, things can happen,” Spike said.

 

Willow’s eyes widened. “Things?” she squeaked.

 

“Don’t go there!” Buffy ordered. “You’re going to damage me for life.”

 

Spike frowned and whipped the car around.

 

“What are you doing?” she demanded impatiently. “We need to get to Giles’ place.”

 

“Giles won’t be there,” Spike replied. “Look around, Slayer. Nobody’s at home. Everyone’s out on the streets.” He pulled over to the side of the street and parked. “Finding your Watcher isn’t going to do anyone any good. It looks like every adult in Sunnydale has been affected by this.”

 

Oz nodded slowly. “Spike’s right.”

 

“Then what do you suggest?” Buffy asked, an edge to her voice. “We can’t just sit around.”

 

“Not saying that we do,” Spike returned. “I’m thinking Red and Oz head to the library, find out what they can, while we try to locate the source.”

 

“How are you going to do that?” Willow asked. “We don’t even know where to start!”

 

Spike shrugged. “This sort of thing is always the same. You find out what changed in the last few days. There has to be some kind of catalyst.”

 

They looked out the windows of the car, watching a group of men ogle a couple of passing women. Every single one of them was munching on a chocolate bar.

 

“The chocolate,” Buffy said in sudden realization. “My mom and Giles!”

 

“My parents ate a ton of them, too,” Oz said.

 

Spike frowned. “Not to mention that there are no vampires out. Haven’t seen a single one tonight. That’s not typical, especially when you’ve got so many free meals walking around.”

 

“But where is the chocolate coming from?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy groaned. “Snyder would know.”

 

“We’ll drop you two off by the school, then find Snyder,” Spike said. He glanced at Buffy. “That sound good to you, Slayer?”

 

“Fine.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy was feeling rather relieved that Spike was the one driving by the time they made it back to the Bronze. It was only his quick reflexes that saved them from at least two accidents. Buffy was treated to some of Spike’s more colorful curses as he slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a car going through a stop sign.

 

Luckily, not only was Snyder still at the Bronze, but he knew where the chocolate bars were being manufactured. Spike followed Snyder’s directions, pulling up in front of the factory just in time to prevent Giles and Joyce from engaging in indecent exposure. “Mom! Giles!” Buffy hurried over to them and yanked them apart. “Spike, help me!”

 

Spike decided that laughing would probably be bad form, even though he was highly amused. “Later, mate,” he murmured to Giles, pulling him away slightly. “Wait ‘til the Slayer doesn’t have her eye on you, yeah?”

 

Buffy, hearing Spike’s admonition, turned to stare at him. “Spike! Don’t encourage them.”

 

“Don’t think they need any encouragement,” Spike pointed out.

 

She glared at him. “Help me keep them separated. We need to get inside and figure out who’s behind this.” Buffy turned her evil eye on Giles. “Are you going to help me or not?”

 

“Might be a bit of a rumble,” Spike pointed out.

 

Giles brightened up at that. “I like a good rumble.”

 

“Good man,” Spike said, clapping him on the shoulder and steering him inside the factory.

 

Buffy didn’t entirely approve of his tactics, but Spike was getting the job done. Giles seemed to be following him docilely enough. Joyce was whining about being interrupted, and Buffy wondered if that’s how she sounded to her mom sometimes.

 

It was a sobering thought.

 

Once inside the factory, it didn’t take them long to find Ethan Rayne, right in the middle of it all. Buffy wasn’t all that surprised. Between the three of them—Buffy, Spike and Giles—they soon managed to corner the magician, leaving Joyce and Snyder waiting at the entrance.

 

“What’s going on, Ethan?” Buffy demanded.

 

Giles sneered. “Hit him.”

 

“I’ve got a better idea,” Spike said, his face shifting.

 

Ethan’s eyes got wide. “Buffy! You wouldn’t let me get eaten, would you? You’re one of the good guys.”

 

“Which seems to indicate that I kill the bad guys,” Buffy mused aloud. She sighed. “And Spike does have a tendency to get hungry when he’s kept waiting.”  


Ethan held up his hands. “This wasn’t my idea!” he protested.

 

“What are you talking about?” Spike demanded, shaking him.

 

“It’s Trick you want!” Ethan said. “He just wanted a distraction so he could make a tribute to a demon.”

 

Giles glared at him. “He’s lying. Hit him!”

 

“I don’t think he is,” Buffy said. “Now be quiet. What demon, Ethan?”

 

Ethan shook his head. “I don’t remember.”

 

“Spike? Would you like a snack?” Buffy inquired sweetly.

 

Spike grinned, showing his teeth. “It would be my pleasure.”

 

His teeth were mere fractions of an inch from Ethan’s throat when the man blurted out, “Lurconis! The demon’s name is Lurconis!”

 

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “You sodding bastard.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “What is it?”

 

“We need to blow this joint, Slayer,” Spike said. “I know what kind of a tribute this demon demands.”

 

Buffy turned to Giles. “Can I trust you to take care of Ethan without killing him?”

 

Giles’ chest puffed out. “’Course you can.”

 

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother. Okay, Spike, let’s split.”

 

She marched off, but Spike spared a moment to grab Giles by the shirt. “Don’t let me find out you got distracted and let this prat go.”

 

“I can take care of it,” Giles responded indignantly.

 

Spike cocked an eyebrow, snorted, and then raced off after Buffy.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike ambled to the front door to answer the knock. He’d been sleeping for the last twelve hours, which wasn’t surprising, given the events of the day before. They’d been running around till nearly dawn, between hunting down Lurconis in the sewers and returning the infants to the maternity ward where they belonged.

 

Then they’d had to hunt down Giles and Joyce, who’d managed to get distracted after all. By the time Spike and Buffy had found them, Ethan was long gone.

 

Spike just wished he’d gotten a picture of Buffy’s face when they’d found her mom and Watcher. It was obvious to his senses what had been going on—all night, if he wasn’t mistaken—but Buffy insisted that she’d found them before they’d actually been able to do anything since they were both still clothed.

 

Hey, Spike didn’t care if the Slayer wanted to live in the land of denial.

 

Buffy had ordered him to take Giles home and to make sure he stayed there. Spike had acceded to her demand, but had left Giles at his apartment. He figured that since Buffy was with her mom, there really wasn’t any more damage that the Watcher could do.

 

Besides, Spike wanted his shower and his bed, in that order.

 

Buffy stood framed in the doorway. “Did I wake you up?”

 

He shrugged. “Yeah, but I was about ready to get up anyway.” Spike stepped aside to allow her to enter. “What’s up, pet?”

 

“I just thought I’d come see how you were doing,” she replied. “Thanks for taking care of Giles last night.”

 

“Not a big deal,” Spike replied. He headed towards the kitchen. “Too bad about that prat Rayne getting away, though.”

 

She sighed. “And somehow I have the feeling we’re going to be seeing him again.”

 

“That wasn’t the first time you had to deal with him,” Spike said.

 

She shook her head. “Last Halloween he came to town and turned everybody into their costumes. It got pretty ugly.”

 

“I can imagine,” Spike murmured, heating his blood up in the microwave. “So, you need my help with something tonight, or did you just come by for patrol?”

 

“Neither,” Buffy replied. “I was hoping you could teach me how to drive.”

 

“Not in my car,” Spike responded automatically.

 

Buffy pouted. “You promised.”

 

“Not in my car,” Spike repeated. “What about your mum’s vehicle?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “If you asked, Mom would probably let you teach me. You really will?”

 

Spike regarded her for a moment, his steady gaze making her fidget a bit. “Thought that was usually the job of the parents.”

 

“I took the class,” Buffy replied defensively. Then she shrugged. “Mom doesn’t have the time, and Dad—” She broke off, unwilling to continue.

 

Spike sighed. “I’ll teach you, but you have to promise to listen to me.”

 

“I swear,” Buffy said, holding up her two fingers in what she thought was the girl scout salute.

 

Spike snorted. “Think you need another finger, luv.” He shook his head. “I’m going to die. Again,” he muttered.

 

Buffy scowled. “I heard that.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Joyce.” Giles stood on her front steps, fidgeting like a boy on his first date.

 

She blushed, thankful that Buffy had gone to patrol with Spike. “Rupert. It’s—how are you feeling?”

 

“Much more like my usual self, I can assure you,” he said, looking anywhere but at her. “How, uh, how are you?”

 

“Good,” she replied, her voice sounding almost squeaky.

 

They stared at each other for a long time, their eyes finally meeting. “I hope we’re still friends,” Giles blurted out.

 

“Of course,” she said quickly. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll make tea.”

 

Giles followed her inside, closing the door behind him, suddenly filled with new resolve. Even though the events of the previous evening made things awkward between them, Giles had enjoyed himself.

 

Of course, he didn’t really want to break any store windows again. The rest of it had been nice, however. Giles hadn’t felt that alive in years.

 

“Joyce,” he called, once they were in the kitchen. She turned, and he was so close to her that there was no space between them. Giles took his opportunity, pulling her to him, kissing her soundly.

 

Ripper never really was all that far from the surface.

 

She pulled back for air, staring at him with such shock that he immediately backed off. “I’m sorry, I—” Joyce pulled his head down for another kiss.

 

“We don’t have to tell Buffy,” she whispered when they came up for air a second time. “She wouldn’t understand.”

 

“I daresay she wouldn’t,” Giles replied. Their lips met again. “I do like you, you know.”

 

“Same here,” Joyce gasped out in between kisses. “We’re probably moving too fast.”

 

Giles didn’t let her go. “Do you care?”

 

“No.”

 

They necked like the teenagers they weren’t in the middle of the kitchen, because sometimes it felt good not to be a grownup.

 

And sometimes you just needed to feel alive.


	16. Chapter 16

**“** **Not easy to state the change you made./If I'm alive now, then I was dead,/Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,/Staying put according to habit./You didn't just tow me an inch, no—/** **Nor leave me to set my small bald eye/Skyward again, without hope, of course,/Of apprehending blueness, or stars…” ~Sylvia Plath, “Love Letter”**

 

The way Willow and Xander were standing and looking at each other, anyone would have mistaken them for lovers rather than best friends. In fact, if Cordelia or Oz had spotted them, the game would have been up in an instant. Research parties at the library had turned into exercises in self control that they were failing miserably.

 

“We have to stop this,” Willow whispered.

 

Xander’s thumbs caressed her hands. “I know. You have Oz, and I have Cordelia.”

 

“Exactly,” she agreed. “So we can’t do this anymore.”

 

“You’re right, we can’t.”

 

Self control once again failing, Xander’s lips caught hers. His kisses were different than Oz’s, tasting of forbidden fruit, of desire long denied. That was most of it right there, at least for Willow. It wasn’t that she loved Xander more than she loved Oz. It was that she’d wanted Xander for so long, so to have him wanting her back was too much to resist.

 

She just couldn’t help herself.

 

It just sucked that Xander hadn’t figured out that he liked her a long time ago.

 

“What are you two doing?”

 

The voice had them both jumping backwards, ramming into the bookshelves on either side of the aisle where they’d been kissing. Spike stood there, a frown on his face, looking suspicious and uncertain.

 

“Nothing!” Xander said quickly. “Honest!”

 

Spike looked over at Willow. “Everything alright here, Red?”

 

“It’s fine!” she squeaked. “We were just looking for a book.”

 

Spike nodded. “Watcher anywhere around here?”

 

“In his office, I think,” Xander said, jerking his head in the general direction of Giles’ office. “I take it you heard about the new Watcher showing up.”

 

“What new Watcher?” Spike asked. “Thought Giles was it.”

 

Willow shook her head frantically. Her heart was still racing from being caught out, even though Spike didn’t seem to know exactly what he’d walked in on. “The Council sent a Watcher for Faith.”

 

Spike gave each of them one more hard look before nodding and striding towards Giles’ office.

 

“That was too close,” Willow hissed. “We have to stop this, Xander.”

 

Xander’s eyes widened. “I know! I want to stop. We’re stopping. Right now. We’re done.”

 

“As of now,” Willow agreed.

 

Of course, they both knew that they’d made the same promise a hundred times.

 

~~~~~

 

“What’s this I hear about a replacement?” Spike asked, leaning against the doorframe.

 

Giles shot him a dirty look. “She is not a replacement,” he shot back. “Dreadful woman,” he muttered.

 

Spike snickered. “I take it you weren’t impressed with her.”

 

“She’s very—efficient,” he admitted grudgingly. Giles turned to face Spike, indignation evident in his face and voice. “She said I was too American!”

 

Spike couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “You?” he finally managed to gasp.

 

Giles felt some relief. “I take it you don’t agree.”

 

“Rupert, you’re an Englishman to the bone.” Spike shook his head, still chuckling. “What the bloody hell is her problem?”

 

Giles sat, waving Spike to take a seat on the small loveseat. “According to the Council, some of my methods are questionable.”

 

“You’ve got one of the best Slayers I’ve ever heard of,” Spike replied, raising an eyebrow in question. “What are they expecting?”

 

“I don’t know,” Giles replied. “It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that there’s a demon named Lagos who appears to be after the Glove of Myhnegon. If it’s found, the damage could be extensive.”

 

Spike nodded. “So what’s the plan? We find this glove first?”

 

“Buffy and Faith are looking for it tonight, and will continue to do so until it is found.”

 

“What about this other Watcher? What’s she up to?”

 

“Her name is Gwendolyn Post, and I don’t know,” Giles replied. “I’m still looking for information on where the glove might be. Xander and Willow were helping me look for references to either Lagos or the glove, but they disappeared into the stacks awhile ago and I haven’t seen them since.”

 

Spike shifted uncomfortably. This was one of those occasions where he wasn’t quite sure what to do, or what human custom called for. He was sure that whatever they had been doing, it wasn’t something they ought to have been. Spike wasn’t sure he should tell anyone, though. While he and Xander got along well enough, he didn’t feel particularly inclined to help the boy out. Willow was a different matter altogether. Spike didn’t want to see her hurt.

 

Of course, Oz was his friend too.

 

“You want me to help look?” Spike asked, wanting to change the subject quickly.

 

Giles hesitated and then handed him a book. “Certainly. The more dedicated searchers, the more quickly we can get through this ridiculous business.”

 

Spike lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. He flipped open the book, beginning to search for material relating to Lagos or the Glove of Myhnegon. They worked in silence, with only the occasional rustling of pages.

 

Even though Spike was trying to keep his concentration on the text, his mind kept wandering to the sight he’d walked in on earlier and to Buffy.

 

He’d spent the previous evening trying to teach Buffy to drive—“trying” being the operative word. Spike hated to admit defeat, but the girl was positively hopeless. She was pure grace on the battlefield, but put her behind the wheel of a car and she was completely incompetent.

 

Not that Spike was planning on giving up. He rarely gave up.

 

It had been nice, though—spending time in Buffy’s company, away from monster-killing, away from life-or-death matters. Although, with Buffy driving, he did feel like he was taking his unlife in his hands.

 

But she’d been trying. Spike loved how hard she tried.

 

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Spike shoved it to the side. He wasn’t interested in that sort of thing. He’d been alone for a long time now, and he’d been perfectly content. Spike had been Love’s Bitch, and he wasn’t interested in going there again. It had nearly killed him.

 

Drusilla’s betrayal had nearly broken him.

 

The memories hit him like a flood, and Spike’s fists clenched. The sound of his own screams echoed inside of his skull. It was Giles’ voice that finally broke through the memories. “What?”

 

“I’ve found where the glove is hidden,” Giles said, his face lined in concern. “I say, are you quite alright?”

 

“Fine,” Spike replied shortly. “Just—remembering something best forgotten. You want me to go after this glove thing?”

 

Giles looked relieved. “Would you? I’ll let the Post woman know we’ve found it.” The Watcher smiled smugly. “That’ll teach her to think I can’t do my job.”

 

Spike smirked. “Having me around couldn’t hurt, either. You want me to bring it to the library tomorrow?”

 

“I’ll send one of the Slayers to get it,” Giles replied. “There’s no need for you to be inconvenienced.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Whatever. It’s not like I’ve got all that much going on.” He stood. “You give me directions to the glove, and I’ll pick it up tonight. You can call me tomorrow and let me know what’s going on.”

 

“That sounds fine,” Giles replied, scribbling down the directions. Spike turned to leave, but Giles’ words made him pause. “Are you quite sure you’re alright, Spike?”

 

The vampire took a deep, unnecessary breath. “As alright as anyone in my shoes can be, Rupert.”

 

With that rather cryptic response, Spike slipped out the door, leaving Giles to stare after him, his curiosity piqued.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike retrieved the glove without any trouble. Lagos was nowhere to be seen, nor were the Slayers around. It didn’t hurt his feelings to have something go right for once, though. As late as it was, Spike took a moment to call Giles to let him know that he’d found it. Then he stashed it in the lock box he kept under his bed and read until he was ready to sleep.

 

The reminder of Drusilla had awoken his nightmares again, and Spike didn’t manage to get much sleep. She and Angelus had been masters of torture, both mental and physical, and while Spike would have liked to forget, there were times when it was impossible.

 

After the second time he woke gasping, having dreamt of one particularly brutal session, Spike gave up on sleep. He rose and showered, standing under the spray, letting it pound his flesh soothingly.

 

Once, his wrists had been permanently raw from the manacles they’d used. Once, his best days had been when they had forgotten about him. Spike clenched his fists, remembering when they’d gone off for a killing spree for an entire week and left him to himself.

 

He hadn’t known whether to be relieved or angry, because he’d had nothing to eat for all that time. Angelus had made certain that he didn’t even have access to rats.

 

With an impatient twist, Spike shut the water off. This was ridiculous. It was over. His tormentors were dead.

 

They had not broken him, so what did it matter if he still bore the scars?

 

Spike knew he needed something to distract him, someone to talk to. He also needed to figure out how he was going to deal with Willow and Xander’s situation. There was a part of him that wanted to forget about it, but he couldn’t.

 

A sudden burst of rage had him throwing his empty mug at the wall, watching it shatter. It gave him less relief than he’d hoped.

 

“Bugger,” he muttered, staring at the mess, knowing he would now have to clean it up.

 

The ringing of the doorbell distracted him, and he went to the door, surprised to see Faith on the other side. “What can I do for you?”

 

Faith’s knowing grin told Spike that she was thinking in double entendres again. “Right now? You can hand over the glove-thing. Giles said you had it, and my Watcher sent me to pick it up.”

 

Spike hesitated, then stepped aside to let her enter. “Let me grab it for you.”

 

Faith stayed in the living room, calling after him, “Pretty nice place you got here.”

 

“It’s not bad,” he replied. “You still at that hotel?”

 

“Different room, but yeah.” She ran her hand along the soft leather of the sofa. “It’s Spartan.”

 

Spike frowned slightly, wondering where Faith had picked up that term. The way she said it led him to think that she was proud of it, proud that she didn’t need what anyone else had deemed important. At the same time, he’d heard a longing in her voice when she’d complimented him.

 

If Faith hadn’t had a Watcher, Spike might have offered her a place to stay, but he figured it was another one of those things that wasn’t any of his business. “Here you go,” he said, handing over the glove, wrapped up in rags. He watched as Faith parted the cloth slightly to get a better look. “Careful,” he warned. “You touch it, and the only way it comes off is when you die.”

 

“Wicked,” she murmured.

 

Spike knew the look in her eyes. It came from having been powerless, and then becoming strong again. It was probably the same look he’d had back when he’d a newly risen vampire. There was a piece of him that wanted to offer her something, some lifeline that she could hold on to.

 

He remained silent, however, since it didn’t appear as though she needed anything from him. Faith had her Watcher, and he’d been asked to help Buffy. Spike didn’t owe her anything.

 

“I gotta get this to Mrs. Post,” Faith finally said, pushing the rags back into place and tucking it under her arm. “Thanks.”

 

“No problem,” he replied. “You need my help with Lagos, just call.”

 

“Will do,” Faith replied, pausing at the door. “You’re okay, you know. For a vampire.”

 

Spike smirked. “You’re okay for a Slayer.”

 

She grinned at him. “Just as long as we understand each other.”

 

When she was gone, Spike turned back to his kitchen. He still had a mess to clean up.

 

And he had a visit to make.

 

~~~~~

 

The appearance of Lagos had Buffy completely forgetting that Willow had been trying to tell her something. The redhead had stammered and gone around in circles for so long that nothing had been shared before the demon showed up. By the time Buffy had killed the demon, she’d been intent on getting back to Giles. She had the feeling that he’d want to gloat about her success to the Post lady.

 

Evil bitch.

 

Buffy certainly didn’t envy Faith her new Watcher. That woman would have done better to stay in England. What Buffy hadn’t expected to find were the paramedics carrying Giles out on a stretcher. “Giles!”

 

“Out of our way, miss,” one of them warned her.

 

Buffy ran alongside him. “Giles? What happened?”

 

“Living Fire,” he muttered. “Use…”

 

There was no time to ask him what he meant by that, even if he’d been coherent enough to tell them what he’d meant. Buffy looked over at Xander. “What’s going on?”

 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I came to see if Giles needed help with the research again, and he was laid out on the floor.”

 

“What about Mrs. Post or Faith?” Buffy demanded. “Have you seen either of them tonight?”

 

Xander shook his head. “No, not at all. I don’t know where they are.”

 

Buffy wasn’t sure what to do. Her only option seemed to be finding the other Watcher, who might know what they were supposed to do with the glove anyway. “You guys go see what you can find out about this Living Fire that Giles was talking about,” she said. “I need to find Faith or Mrs. Post.”

 

She ran to Faith’s motel room first, but there was no answer when she pounded on the door. Buffy found a pay phone and quickly dialed Spike’s number. “Spike.”

 

“What’s up?” he asked.

 

Buffy quickly told him about Giles. “Have you seen Faith tonight?”

 

“She came by to get the glove earlier,” he replied. “Told me her Watcher had sent her.”

 

Buffy bit back a curse. “Did she say where she was taking it?”

 

“No. Buffy, do you want me to come pick you up? I can—”

 

“No, that’s okay. I don’t think you can help me on this one, not unless you know who knocked Giles out, or who might be after that glove other than the demon I just killed.”

 

“Sorry, pet. Dunno.”

 

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said, hanging up. Buffy decided to head back to the school, thinking that at least Willow and Xander might have found out something about the Living Fire.

 

She’d just gotten to the front of the school when she saw Faith running. “Buffy!”

 

“Faith! What’s going on?”

 

“Mrs. Post was after the glove,” Faith gasped. There was a trickle of blood down one cheek where something had grazed her. “She’s got it.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “She’s wearing it?”

 

“Yeah, and she’s heading this way,” Faith replied. “I think she wants us out of the way. She said something about not letting us destroy it.”

 

Buffy grabbed the other Slayer’s arm and hustled her into the school. “Willow and Xander are working on it, I think. If that’s what Giles meant about the fire stuff, anyway.”

 

They raced through the halls to the library, and when they burst through the doors, Willow and Xander both jumped, startled. “What’s up?” Willow asked.

 

“Mrs. Post is the bad guy,” Buffy quickly explained. “Do you know—”

 

“I know how to destroy the glove, Buffy,” Willow quickly replied, cutting her off. “But we’ve got to get it off her hand first. And for that—”

 

“We have to kill her,” Faith supplied. “That’s what Spike said.”

 

Buffy turned towards the weapons cage. “We’ve got—”

 

She was interrupted by the sound of the library doors bursting open, Gwendolyn Post standing there with the glove on. “Faith, how nice of you to lead me right to the only other person who might have stopped me. So convenient to only have to make one stop.” She pointed at Buffy. “ _Tauo freim_!”

 

Buffy dove out of the way just in time. The bolt of electricity struck the spot where she’d been standing. “Faith! Get weapons!”

 

“I’m trying!” Faith shouted, rolling as Ms. Post tried to hit her. Faith rolled towards Buffy, hissing, “I’ll draw her fire.” Faith was on her feet and running, with Xander and Willow ducking for cover behind the big library desk.

 

With Ms. Post’s attention on Faith, Buffy headed for the cage, frantically searching for a weapon she could throw. She knew that there was no way she’d get close enough to use a short-range weapon.

 

“B! Look out!”

 

Buffy dropped to the floor, the bolt striking just above her head. She glanced over, spotting a throwing ax that had fallen to the floor. “It’s about time,” she muttered, then braced herself, knowing that she’d only get one chance.

 

She surged to her feet, throwing the ax immediately. Faith had just come out from behind one of the bookshelves, causing Ms. Post to turn towards her, and presenting her profile to Buffy.

 

Buffy threw the ax in a precise arc, slicing through the rogue Watcher’s arm just above where the glove stopped. Gwendolyn Post screamed, and the energy from the glove became erratic. Both Slayers ran for cover, hearing Ms. Post’s screams as the energy burned her up from the inside.

 

When silence had fallen, they all came out from hiding, staring at the blackened spot on the floor where the glove lay. “So, Willow,” Buffy said rather breathlessly. “You said you can destroy it?”

 

“Yeah,” Willow nearly squeaked. “I’ll get on that right away.”

 

Buffy and Faith’s eyes met. “You okay?” Buffy asked.

 

“Five by five,” Faith replied, her dark eyes unreadable.

 

Buffy wanted to say something, to tell Faith that it hadn’t been her fault for not knowing, that they’d all been fooled. She didn’t know how to say the words without sounding condescending, however, and so she just nodded. “Good.”


	17. Chapter 17

**“Never on this side of the grave again,/On this side of the river,/On this side of the garner of the grain,/Never,—/Ever while time flows on and on and on,/That narrow noiseless river,/Ever while corn bows heavy-headed, wan,/Ever,—/Never despairing, often fainting, rueing,/But looking back, ah never!/Faint yet pursuing, faint yet still pursuing/Ever.” ~Christina Rossetti, “A Life’s Parallels”**

 

Spike honestly didn’t know who else to talk to. Nearly everyone he knew in Sunnydale was intimately connected with the situation in some way. Joyce, on the other hand, while Buffy’s mother, would be able to give him some good advice while remaining removed.

 

She answered his knock as she always did, with a warm smile and welcoming words. “Spike, it’s been a while.”

 

“Figured you’ve been busy with the Watcher,” Spike replied with a sly grin.

 

Joyce fixed him with a stern eye. “There’s nothing going on between me and Rupert.”

 

Spike lifted an eyebrow. “Joyce, I might look young, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Ever since that thing with the candy—”

 

“You aren’t going to say anything, are you?” she asked, cutting him off.

 

Spike shrugged. “None of my business, quite frankly. You and Rupert are unattached adults. There’s no reason you shouldn’t pass the time together.” He smiled at her. “Take some of the edge off a lonely life, yeah?”

 

Joyce breathed a sigh of relief. She and Rupert had managed to keep their relationship fairly quiet so far. The only one she’d thought might have some inkling was Spike, and she’d hoped they would be able to trust him. It was, however, something of a relief to have her hunch borne out. “Thank you, Spike. I don’t think Buffy would understand.”

 

Spike snorted. “She’s your daughter, and she’s young. I imagine she’d come around eventually, but it might be nicer to avoid the fanfare for a while.”

 

“Exactly.” She’d led him into the kitchen and was automatically beginning to prepare hot chocolate. Joyce knew that Spike liked it, especially with the little marshmallows. She wondered what it was exactly about the drink that he enjoyed so much, since he didn’t really seem like the type.

 

Once again, Joyce couldn’t help but wonder what exactly made Spike tick. And once again, she couldn’t help but want to mother him a little. He looked like he was in sore need of it.

 

“What can I do for you?” she finally asked, after he had been fidgeting restlessly for a few minutes.

 

Spike hesitated. “I need some advice.”

 

Her eyes widened. That wasn’t exactly what she’d expected to come out of his mouth. “Okay.”

 

“I—what if you saw two people doing something they probably shouldn’t be doing?” he asked. “Especially if you knew that if anyone else knew, it could hurt your friends?”

 

Joyce blinked, trying to decipher his twisted grammar. “Can you be a little more specific?”

 

“Would you swear not to say anything to anybody?”

 

Joyce didn’t want to make a promise she couldn’t keep, but she somehow doubted that Spike would knowingly allow Buffy or any of her friends to be hurt if he could help it. “I promise.”

 

“When I went to the library last night to see the Watcher, I saw Xander and Willow kissing,” Spike said frankly.

 

She frowned, trying to figure out what had Spike so upset, and then the words truly registered. “I thought Willow was going out with Oz,” she said slowly.

 

Spike nodded. “And Xander’s partnered up with Cordelia. I don’t care so much about them, but both Red and Oz are f—” Spike broke off, suddenly remembering that he didn’t have friends.

 

Joyce caught his hesitation, and correctly guessed the reasoning behind it. “You don’t want either Willow or Oz to get hurt,” she rephrased gently.

 

“Yeah,” he replied, relieved. “What should I do?”

 

Joyce considered his problem for a moment. Spike was right. The situation could get sticky, and if he didn’t play his cards right, he could easily be blamed for any fallout. “I don’t know,” she finally said. At his crestfallen expression, Joyce said quietly, “Spike, this would be a difficult situation for anyone to deal with. Any way you look at it, you’ve been placed in a bad position.”

 

He sighed. “So what? Should I just keep my mouth shut?”

 

“No,” Joyce said. “Since you’re closer to Willow, however, I think you ought to talk to her. Explain that you’re worried and that you don’t want to hurt her or Oz. Maybe she’ll come clean on her own.”

 

“And if she doesn’t?”

 

“I don’t know,” Joyce admitted. “But I think Willow will do the right thing.”

 

“She’s a good one,” Spike agreed. “Thanks.”

 

Joyce placed his cup of hot chocolate on the counter, and then laid her hand over his. “Spike, it’s okay to have friends, you know.”

 

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Never had them before,” he muttered. “I didn’t need them.”

 

She somehow doubted that, wondering once again at what must have been the unbearable loneliness of his existence. “Things change. I’m sure you know that.”

 

“What if—” he broke off, not wanting to complete the question.

 

Joyce thought she knew what he wanted to ask. “You can always come to me, Spike.”

 

It was a promise that meant something; Spike thought he might actually be able to believe her.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike didn’t get a chance to corner Willow the next day. When he met up with the Slayers and the rest of the gang at the Bronze, they were full of news about how they had stopped Gwendolyn Post from taking over the world. Willow was surrounded, and it didn’t appear that she was going to go off by herself any time soon.

 

He pushed that issue aside for what seemed a more pressing one, however. Faith was even warier than she’d been in the past, and it worried him. Spike knew that she was a great deal more fragile than she let on, and Post’s betrayal was enough to put her on edge.

 

Of course, that meant that it would be all that much easier to send her over.

 

The half-formed plan he’d had suddenly seemed important, and Spike knew that he needed to speak with Faith and soon.

 

The Slayers went off together, but Spike knew their routine well at this point. He wasn’t precisely following them, but he was making certain that his path intersected theirs at certain key points.

 

It was late when Buffy finally called it a night and headed home, leaving Faith to go back to her dingy motel room. Spike stepped out of the shadows to walk next to her. “Want some company, Slayer?”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you were going to take me up on my offer of a ride, Blondie.”

 

“Not interested in a ride,” he replied easily, making sure to keep his tone light, knowing that he could give offense if the brush off was done too carelessly. “I had a proposition for you, actually.”

 

Faith’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What sort of proposition?”

 

“I’ve got an extra bedroom,” Spike replied, letting the words hang between them.

 

“I’m not interested in that kind of arrangement,” Faith spat, picking up the pace.

 

Spike kept up. “That’s not the kind of proposition I had in mind.” He reached out and grabbed her arm, ready for the punch she threw at him, catching her fist. “Easy, Slayer.”

 

“Let go!” Faith said furiously. “What do you want from me, _vampire_? You said you didn’t want a ride, but you—”

 

“You pay me what you’re paying your current landlord,” Spike interrupted. “This isn’t a charity deal, and it’s not what you’re thinking either. I’m not interested in using you, pet.”

 

Faith stared at him. “Then what do you want from me?”

 

“I’ve stayed in places like that,” Spike replied. “They’re shit-holes.”

 

She shifted uneasily. “I’ve been in worse.”

 

“Yeah, so have I,” Spike responded. “Which is why I’m offering you a different place.”

 

Faith wasn’t convinced. “You’re saying you don’t want sex?”

 

“Not from you,” Spike replied candidly. “In fact, I’m going to pretty much insist on it if you decide to take me up on my offer. Watcher would probably stake me otherwise.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” she finally allowed. “Maybe. I need my freedom.”

 

“You’ll have as much of it as you want,” Spike said. “I’m not your parent, and I’m not your Watcher. Don’t really care where you are or how late you’re out. Just thought you might like a halfway decent place to sleep. Plus, we keep the same hours.”

 

Faith nodded grudgingly. “I guess.”

 

“You think about it,” Spike said, turning away. “Door’s open.”

 

She didn’t respond, but she was definitely thinking about it.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow’s sense of guilt, which had been fairly well-honed to begin with, was growing daily. At first, her dalliances with Xander had been fueled by years of unfulfilled longing. She had wanted him for so long that even her love for Oz wasn’t strong enough to have her backing off completely.

 

After the initial shock, however, it had been the thrill of the forbidden. Willow had always done the right thing. She’d always been the good girl, the one who followed all the rules, and turned her homework in on time, and listened to authority figures. This thing with Xander was wrong and bad, and Willow knew that she needed to end it.

 

It was just that she didn’t know how.

 

How do you cut things off with your best friend without abandoning the friendship? It seemed an impossible choice.

 

When Oz had given her the Pez witch earlier that day, Willow had been galvanized, however. She loved Oz, for precisely the reasons that had led him to give her the small gift in the first place. In some ways, Willow loved Oz because he _wasn’t_ Xander.

 

She wanted Oz. Willow just had to find a way to make her attraction to and for Xander go away.

 

The de-lusting spell would do the trick, she thought.

 

“What’s going on, Red?”

 

Spike’s words had her squeaking and dropping the book, which he caught just inches from the floor. Willow breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t even supposed to know about that book. If she damaged it, Giles would kill her.

 

“Spike! What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to sound as if she wasn’t bothered by his presence in the least.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Came to talk to you, actually.” Spike paused. “I think you know why.”

 

“I’m going to fix it,” Willow said firmly, deciding that since he obviously knew, there was no point in trying to hide the truth.

 

“With this?” he asked, holding up the book. Willow snatched it back from him. “Magic isn’t the way to go. A love spell—”

 

“It’s not a love spell,” she insisted. “It’s a de-lusting spell.”

 

Spike frowned. He had thought that Red was a smart bird, so he was a little surprised to have her acting like an idiot. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

 

“It’s a great idea,” Willow insisted. “What else would you suggest?”

 

Spike stared at her. “Uh, try not to kiss Harris?”

 

Willow bristled at his tone. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shot back. “Xander and I have been best friends since forever. We can’t just turn our feelings off, or—”

 

“That’s not what I’m suggesting,” Spike replied. “But you don’t have to keep getting together. Mark my words, Red, it’s going to come out one way or another. You’ll do better to come clean to your boyfriend and then figure out which bloke you want.”

 

“I want Oz,” Willow said firmly. “Which is why I’m going to do this spell.” She brushed past him impatiently. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there are a few ingredients that I’m missing.”

 

Spike watched her go and let out a frustrated sigh. That conversation hadn’t gone how he’d planned at all. He had no idea what his next move should be.

 

He exited the stacks and looked up at the clock on the wall. It didn’t look like he had time to worry about it at the moment, however. The two Slayers would be arriving any moment for training with him. Any other action he decided to take would have to wait for later in the evening.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy knew her training was rather erratic. She was _feeling_ pretty erratic. The test scores she’d gotten had pretty much turned her whole world upside down.

 

She was not intelli-girl. That was Willow. Buffy was action-girl. Now she was finding that she needed to redefine her entire life, especially with her mom going on and on about how she could finally get away from Sunnydale. She would have thought that Giles would be on her side, but no. He was all for her leaving town, too.

 

“Enough.” Spike glared at her. “You’re not paying attention.”

 

Buffy leaned on the table, her shoulders slumping wearily. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be sorry,” he shot back. “Just try to focus.” Spike looked over at the other Slayer who had been waiting rather impatiently for her turn. “Faith, you’re up.”

 

“Can I go now?” Buffy asked. “Look, I know Giles asked you to train us while he was on that retreat, but Mom wanted to spend some quality time with me.”

 

Spike sighed and shook his head. “Get out of here. Go home. But we’re on tomorrow, got it?”

 

“Got it.” She grabbed her stuff and left.

 

Faith grinned. “Looks like I’ve got you all to myself.”

 

Spike readied himself for Faith’s attack. “You thought anymore about my offer?”

 

“I’ve given it some thought,” she admitted, throwing a punch to test his defenses.

 

“And?” Spike blocked her punch and tried to sweep her feet out from under her.

 

Faith stepped back, giving him a serious look. Spike could tell that she’d let some of her defenses down. “This is just business, right? Because I don’t need anybody taking care of me.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t bloody well care what you’re up to. It’s just a nicer place to stay for the same kind of money you’re already paying.”

 

“Then you’re on.”

 

With those words, she launched herself at him in a furious attack. Faith’s style was completely different than Buffy’s—she moved like a street fighter, like a wild thing. Buffy’s movements were typically more controlled, although she could be a bit of a wild card herself with her inventive use of the environment around her.

 

In some ways, however, fighting with Faith brought back memories of the days after Spike was turned, when it was fists and fangs and sod all else.

 

Faith, unlike Buffy, embraced the fight. Spike found himself grinning as they sparred. They were both having a grand old time.

 

They didn’t stop until Spike called a timeout. Faith was panting hard, her own broad grin spreading out over her features. “Never thought fighting with a vampire would be like that.”

 

“Like what?” Spike asked.

 

“I don’t know,” she replied. “That was good. A lot more fun than training with Giles, that’s for sure.”

 

Spike lounged against the table. “Glad to oblige.”

 

“Fight like that gets me revved up,” she said. “Like I told Buffy, slaying makes me hungry and horny.”

 

Spike could see the hunger in her eyes, but there was a playful light there that suggested she was flirting but not serious. “Guess you’d better go find something to snack on, then,” he said smiling, pulling something out of his pocket and tossing it her way.

 

“What’s this?” Faith asked, catching it easily.

 

“Key.” Spike shrugged. “Move your stuff in whenever you want.”

 

Faith blinked a few times then stared at him. “Spike—”

 

“Forget it,” he said, sensing that she was about to thank him. “Like I said. I’ve stayed in places like that before. There’s no reason you should have to, not when I’ve got a spare room.”

 

She nodded. “Right. I should go patrol.” Faith had reached the doors when she called back over her shoulder, tentatively, “I’ll see you later tonight.”

 

Spike knew he was taking a chance on her, knew that this arrangment could have serious repercussions, but he wasn’t sure he cared. It felt like the right thing to do.

 

And he always went with his gut.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow had known that Xander wouldn’t be too keen on a de-lusting spell—or any kind of spell, actually. He was much warier about magic since he’d tried to cast that love spell on Cordelia last Valentine’s Day. Nearly getting torn apart by a mob of women desperately in love with you tended to make you rethink your decisions.

 

Still, she was sure that this would do the trick. The owner of the magic store had suggested raven’s feather, and had been really nice about giving her some pointers. A wave of the metaphorical magic wand and their problem would be solved.

 

Anyway, what did Spike know? As long as she and Xander weren’t stealing kisses anymore, no one needed to know about their indiscretions. Willow just hoped that Spike would keep his mouth shut.

 

The funny thing about magic is that it isn’t just about finding the right ingredients. It’s not even about saying the right words, although that’s important too. The key ingredient is the will of the spell-caster, and Willow was still working on her self-control.

 

And her focus. Willow really needed to work on her focus.

 

Xander went along with Willow’s plan because she insisted, and she was wearing her resolve face. He’d never been able to say no to her resolve face. Besides, after Willow told him about Spike confronting her, he was willing to do whatever it took to put this behind them. The last thing he needed was the bleached pest telling Cordelia that he was cheating.

 

Which he wasn’t. Not really. Not in his heart, anyway.

 

So it was that both Willow and Xander were thinking about Spike, of all people, while casting their de-lusting spell. And so it was that the de-lusting spell was thus transformed into a spell redirecting love.

 

Which is exactly what Spike walked in on.


	18. Chapter 18

**“I do not love you—except because I love you;/I go from loving to not loving you,/from waiting to not waiting for you/my heart moves from the cold into/the fire. I love you only because it’s you/I love; I hate you no end, and hating you/bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you/is that I do not see you but love you/blindly…In this part of the story I am the one who/dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,/because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.” ~Pablo Neruda, Sonnet LXVI**

 

“Why do we have to meet them in the science rooms?” Cordelia asked Oz. “I mean, if we had to meet them, couldn’t it have been at the bowling alley, or out front?”

 

Oz shrugged. “I don’t know. Willow said she had an experiment she needed to finish up.”

 

“And Xander had to help her. Yeah, I know.” Cordelia wasn’t nearly as upset about the situation as she seemed. The more she thought about it, the nicer a double date spent bowling sounded. She was Queen C, though, and she had to keep up appearances, and that included bitching a whole lot.

 

“They should be—” Oz stopped when he saw Spike skidding towards them. The vampire was looking a little freaked out, which Oz hadn’t thought was possible. Spike seemed to be the epitome of coolness. “Spike?”

 

Spike grabbed the both of them, shoving them into an empty classroom and shutting the door behind him. “We’ve got a small problem.”

 

Willow’s voice rang out in the hallway. “Spike? Where did you go? Are we playing a game now?”

 

Oz frowned. “Spike, what’s going on?”

 

“I don’t know,” Spike replied. “I was training with the Slayers tonight. They’d left, I heard a noise, walked into a room and found Harris and your witch.”

 

“Xander and Willow?” Cordelia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. She hadn’t thought anything of Xander spending time with Willow. They’d been hanging out together forever. Something in Spike’s face had her attention sharpening, however. “What were they doing?”

 

“A spell,” Spike said. He closed his eyes as Xander’s voice rang out.

 

“Spike? Come on, man, don’t play hard to get! Willow and I talked it over. We’re going to share you.”

 

Oz’s eyes went wide. “What kind of a spell?”

 

“I don’t know!” Spike was looking just a little panicked. “I walked in and they were both all over me, telling me how much they loved me. Bloody hell! Harris—” Spike stopped right there, not wanting to go into details. “They were fighting over who was going to get me first.”

 

Cordelia couldn’t help her snickers. The fact that Willow and Xander were doing magic together for some unknown reason wasn’t humorous at all, and she’d have to kick her boyfriend’s ass later for that. On the other hand, Spike’s panic was priceless.

 

“This isn’t funny!” Spike snarled. “You weren’t there! You didn’t—”

 

The door opened and Willow poked her head in. “Hey, Oz,” she chirped cheerfully when she saw her boyfriend. “Spike! There you are.”

 

Spike started backing away. “Now, Red, I’m not the guy you want.” He jerked a thumb at Oz. “Your boy’s standing right there.”

 

“I know,” Willow replied. “But he just doesn’t have the same charm, you know? I’m sure vampires have tremendous stamina.”

 

Spike was backing off rapidly. Willow wasn’t herself, and as soon as they reversed this spell, she was going to feel pretty foolish. Worse still, Oz was standing right there, listening to his girlfriend go on and on about another man.

 

Spike knew what that felt like, actually. It sucked.

 

“Oz, you know—”

 

“Spells go crazy on the Hellmouth,” Oz said, cutting him off and moving to intercept Willow. “I suggest you get Giles.”

 

“He’s off on a retreat,” Spike replied, weaving around the desks to get himself a clear path to the door. “Buffy might know where he is, though, and I could probably figure out a general reversal spell in a pinch.”

 

Xander appeared in the doorway behind him. “Spike! Finally. Look, it’s not nice to hide. Unless you’re just trying to increase the anticipation.” Xander leered. “It’s working.”

 

“Okay, that’s just creepy!” Cordelia said. “Xander, knock it off!”

 

Xander shook his head, advancing on Spike. “Sorry, Cor, but I’ve finally realized that I need a real man.”

 

“He’s mine!” Willow protested. “Xander, you agreed that I get to have him first.”

 

“Sod it all!” Spike snarled. “You two! Keep them busy!” He bowled Xander over, not caring if he bruised the boy. This was getting ridiculous, and he was fairly certain that he had Willow to blame for this. Worse still, she’d put him in an untenable position. Spike knew exactly why Willow had done the spell, and Buffy and the others were going to be asking. He wouldn’t be able to put them off forever.

 

Spike raced to the Summers’ house on foot. He’d taken the sewers to the high school, which meant his car was in the garage. Hopefully, Oz and Cordelia would keep the two lovebirds busy until he and Buffy could find a way to defuse the situation.

 

There had been one occasion in the past when Spike had witnessed a love spell such as this one,  in which the person affected hadn’t been able to get to the object of their affection. The results hadn’t been pretty.

 

Besides, the very idea of Xander coming on to him was enough to make Spike sick.

 

His frantic pounding soon brought Buffy to the door, obviously expecting the worst. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Red did a spell, and it went wrong,” he said without preamble. “We need to reverse it.”

 

Buffy immediately looked alarmed. “Is she okay? Was anyone hurt? Where is she?”

 

“They’re at the school,” Spike said quickly. “I think we can figure out a general reversal spell. If we have to, we can get Giles.”

 

Buffy put her hands on Spike’s shoulders. “Stop. I can’t do anything if I don’t know what the situation is.”

 

“Willow did some sort of love spell,” Spike explained. “It went wrong.” He hesitated, then took the plunge. “She and Xander were coming after me.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened in merriment as his meaning sank in. “Xander is in love with you?”

 

“It’s not funny,” he snapped.

 

Buffy started laughing. “Xander’s in love with you? What did they do that has you so freaked?”

 

“Nothing!” he snarled.

 

Joyce came around the corner. “Buffy? Spike? What’s going on?”

 

“Xander’s in love with Spike!” Buffy burst out, tears of laughter beginning to stream down her cheeks.

 

“It’s not funny!” Spike protested again. “Oz and Cordelia were standing right there, and you can bet they weren’t laughing.”

 

Buffy sobered quickly, realizing that as funny as it was to see Spike so freaked out, people could end up getting hurt. “Okay. What do we need?”

 

“You have any magic books around here?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “They’re all at the library or at Giles’ house.”

 

“Going back to the library will take too much time,” Spike objected. “We’ll have to get supplies too.”

 

“Giles is out of town,” Buffy said. “We can’t get into his apartment.”

 

“Yes, we can,” Spike said. “I’ll tell your Watcher we broke in for a good cause.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Okay, but I’m blaming you.”

 

The phone rang, and Joyce went to pick it up. “Buffy? It’s for you. It’s Oz.”

 

Buffy picked up the phone and had a quick conversation with Oz. “We have a small problem.”

 

“What’s that?” Spike asked with a groan.

 

“Willow and Xander got loose,” she said. “Apparently, Willow said that she was going to do a love spell on you so you’ll love her back, and Xander decided that if he can’t have you, no one can have you.” The Slayer gave him an apologetic smile. “He’s got a crossbow.”

 

“Lovely,” Spike growled. “Let’s go, Summers. The sooner we get that spell done, the sooner we can get this mess sorted.”

 

Buffy shrugged. “Let me get my shoes on.”

 

As soon as her daughter was out of the room, Joyce handed Spike a house key. “What’s this?” he asked.

 

“It’s to Rupert’s apartment,” Joyce admitted in a whisper. “He wanted me to check on his plants.”

 

It was a blatant lie. “Joyce—”

 

“Just don’t tell Buffy.”

 

Spike stared at her. It was one more secret he suddenly found himself privy to, and he wasn’t pleased in the least. “Fine,” he said shortly. “It’s your secret to keep.”

 

“Let’s go,” Buffy said cheerfully, shoes and jacket now in place.

 

Spike followed her out of the house, muttering under his breath.

 

“Okay, so what’s up with this spell?” Buffy asked. “Somehow, I’m pretty sure you know.”

 

The vampire was tired of keeping secrets for other people. “She was doing a de-lusting spell of some kind on her and Xander.”

 

“Why would she need to do that?” Buffy asked. “She and Oz—” She stopped cold. “Please don’t tell me that Xander and Willow were cheating.”

 

“I caught them kissing a couple days ago,” Spike replied. “When I talked to Red about it, she said she was going to do some spell to make the feelings go away. I walked in on the tail-end of the spell, I guess.”

 

“And then what?”

 

“And then they both took one look at me and started talking about how wonderful I was,” Spike burst out, completely mortified. “Harris managed to get his bloody hand down my pants!”

 

Buffy’s face twisted as she tried not to start laughing again. Spike just looked so horrified—his expression was priceless. “What about Willow?”

 

“She nibbled my ear,” he admitted grumpily. “Then they started arguing about which of them liked me more and who got me first. Soon as they were distracted, I took off. I didn’t want to hurt them, and I didn’t know what else to do. I ran into Cordelia and Oz, and they were supposed to keep the two lovebirds busy while I managed the reversal.”

 

Buffy snickered. “If it were anyone but you, you’d be laughing.”

 

“No, I wouldn’t be,” Spike shot back. “I’d be thinking about how bloody uncomfortable it was to be caught in the middle like that. It’s not like I asked for this. I told Red to come clean!”

 

She patted his arm. “Easy, big guy. We’ll go to Giles, find the reversal spell, and get the supplies. We’ll have you love-free by sun-up.”

 

“We’d better,” Spike muttered. “Otherwise, I’m going to have to find a place to hide out for the day. You don’t want to see how crazy these things can get when people don’t get what they want.”

 

“Oh, I’ve already experienced the effects of a love spell gone wrong,” Buffy said cheerfully. “Last Valentine’s Day, Cordelia dumped Xander so he tried to do a love spell. Instead of making her love him, it made every other female in Sunnydale madly in love with him. He almost got torn to pieces.” She grinned. “Just think. There’s only two of them, though. That’s not enough people for a mob.”

 

Spike scowled. “You’re so comforting.”

 

“I try.” They were at Giles’ apartment at this point, and Spike made a big show of trying to jimmy the lock while using the key Joyce gave him. “What kind of a book are we looking for?”

 

He shrugged, mumbling, “General spell book. The Watcher should have one around here somewhere.” Spike ran his fingers along the spines of the books on the desk, finally grabbing one and flipping it open. “Here. We need supplies, though.”

 

“The magic store is open late,” Buffy replied. “Don’t ask me why, but they are.”

 

“Let’s get this done, then.” Spike was careful to lock up behind him while Buffy wasn’t looking, then followed her out of the courtyard.

 

They walked in silence for a few blocks before Buffy said, “So you really saw Xander and Willow kissing, huh?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do Oz and Cordelia know?”

 

“I dodged the question,” he admitted. Spike glanced over at her. “You said Willow was going to do a love spell?”

 

Buffy nodded. “That’s what Oz said.”

 

“You think she has all the supplies?”

 

“No, I—oh. You think she might be at the shop.” Buffy frowned. “Maybe it would be better if I met you somewhere? Back at my house, maybe?”

 

Spike nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I don’t want to have to fend her off.”

 

Buffy chuckled. “Got it.” She took the hastily written list from him. “See you in a few.” She watched as Spike loped off, shaking her head. As big of a mess as this undoubtedly was, Buffy was grateful not to be in the middle of it for once.

 

She had to admit to feeling a twinge of something when Spike had said that both Willow and Xander were in love with him. It wasn’t jealousy, of course. It was a spell, and Spike was obviously not thrilled about it. At the same time, Buffy couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be in love with Spike.

 

Not that she was—in love with Spike. Maybe she liked him a little bit, but that was all it was. Just like. Just a little.

 

Buffy bit back a sigh. It wasn’t like he’d shown any interest in her beyond the fact that she was the Slayer anyway.

 

Spike’s supposition had been right on the money. Willow was just coming out of the magic shop while Buffy was going in. “Oh, hey, Buffy!” Willow said cheerfully, as though nothing was wrong.

 

“Willow,” Buffy replied carefully. “What are you up to?”

 

“Just getting some spell ingredients,” Willow replied.

 

Buffy nodded. “Maybe you should wait on that spell until tomorrow. It’s getting pretty late.”

 

“What are you getting?” Willow asked suspiciously.

 

“Shopping list for Giles,” Buffy lied. “He asked me to grab a few things he likes to keep on hand.” The Slayer decided that time was of the essence at that point, and she ducked into the shop.

 

The shopkeeper was quite helpful. “General reversal spell, huh?” the woman asked.

 

“Yeah,” Buffy replied. “Love spell gone wrong.”

 

The other woman winced. “Those can be bad. It’s better to get it taken care of as quickly as possible.”

 

“We’re trying,” Buffy replied, quickly paying her and heading out of the shop. She was about a block away when a car pulled up next to her. She froze, a hand automatically going for her weapon.

 

“Get in.” It was Spike’s voice, and the passenger side door opened.

 

Buffy slid inside. “I thought we were meeting at my house.”

 

“Change of plans,” he said, teeth gritted. “Xander was there waiting for me. I called Oz, and they’re supposed to try and pick him up.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Spike, you could totally take Xander. What’s the big deal?”

 

“He stuck his hand down my pants!” Spike sputtered. “I don’t want to give him an opportunity to do the same thing again.”

 

Buffy snickered. “Point taken. We doing this reversal spell at your place then?”

 

“Yeah,” Spike replied. “Think that might be for the best.” He pulled into his garage a few minutes later, and they went into the kitchen where he started pulling ingredients out of the sack, scattering them over the table.

 

Buffy watched in fascination. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

 

“I’ve had to do a spell or two in the past,” Spike replied. “Not my favorite method of getting things done, though.” He started muttering under his breath as he read through the spell instructions. Suddenly, his head shot up. “Shit.”

 

“What?”

 

“I think that witch of yours is trying to do her spell,” Spike growled. “Dammit.” He started sprinkling the sacred salt on the floor to make a circle.

 

“Is that going to help?” Buffy asked.

 

He tossed the jar to her. “I don’t know. I’ve never had to do a reversal spell while someone else was trying to cast a love spell on me before. The circle is supposed to protect me.”

 

“What do you want me to do?” Buffy watched as he flicked his lighter, catching a bundle of herbs on fire.

 

Spike gave her an intense look. “Whatever happens, make sure I finish this spell. If I start acting crazy, you have my permission to knock me out.”

 

“You got it,” she replied cheerfully.

 

Spike shot her a dirty look. “Bitch. You’re enjoying this way too much.”

 

“You’re usually Mr. Cool,” she replied. “It’s kind of fun to see you this flustered.”

 

“Better pray you never see it again,” he said. “I only get flustered when things get bad.” Spike closed his eyes for a second and then began to repeat the spell in Latin.

 

Buffy was so busy listening to Spike chant in Latin—which was probably one of the sexiest sights she’d seen in a long time—she didn’t hear the front door open.

 

Xander managed to be a lot more stealthy than he usually was. In the pursuit of his true love, he was many things, including incredibly jealous. He knew that Spike didn’t love him. Xander was fairly sure that Spike would never love him, and that wasn’t sitting well.

 

If Xander couldn’t have Spike, no one was going to have Spike.

 

Which was pretty much what he said in a grand dramatic gesture.

 

His announcement was enough to get Buffy moving. Xander looked pretty serious, especially with the crossbow aimed for Spike’s heart. The Slayer wasn’t fast enough to prevent Xander from firing, but she did deflect the bolt so that it hit Spike in the thigh instead of killing him.

 

Spike grunted, but he didn’t stop his recitation until the final word was spoken. Xander took one horrified look at the vampire, and then stared at Buffy. “Oh.”

 

“Out,” Spike hissed, limping over to a chair.

 

Xander started backing out of the kitchen, seeing the very angry expression on Spike’s face. “Spike, I’m really sorry.”

 

“Out!” Spike roared.

 

Xander got out.

 

“Hold still,” Buffy scolded as Spike tried to pull the bolt out himself. Spike snarled as she yanked it out in one smooth motion. “You want some help bandaging it?”

 

He shook his head. “No, I’ve got it.” Spike sighed. “It’s not like I haven’t done it before.”

 

Buffy patted him on the shoulder. “I’d better go find the others and do some damage control there.”

 

“What are you going to tell Oz and Cordelia?” he asked.

 

Buffy grimaced. “I don’t know. I didn’t see anything, you did, so I can probably put them off, but they’re going to know something is up from that spell. I guess we’ll just have to see how it goes.”

 

“Guess so,” Spike said. “Thanks for your help.”

 

“Anytime.” Buffy resisted the urge to kiss his cheek. An action such as that might catapult their relationship onto a completely different level, and she had no desire to do that.

 

Well, she didn’t have any desire to lose what they already had. She liked Spike way too much to date him at this point. Buffy had seen what happened when she dated a guy. He either turned into a raging psycho or it ruined the friendship.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Spike.”

 

“Absolutely, Slayer.” He watched her go, wondering if he had misread the look in her eyes. He could have sworn she was going to kiss him at the end.

 

Of course, there was no way he would get involved with her. Spike liked her way too much for that.


	19. Chapter 19

**“Lay your sleeping head, my love,/Human on my faithless arm;/Time and fevers burn away/Individual beauty from/Thoughtful children, and the grave/Proves the child ephemeral:/But in my arms till break of day/Let the living creature lie,/Mortal, guilty, but to me/The entirely beautiful…” ~W. H. Auden, “Lullaby”**

 

Willow clutched the plate a little tighter. She hoped her peace offering would reduce Spike’s anger, since her efforts weren’t helping on any other front.

 

The reversal spell had taken effect just before she’d finished her love spell on Spike. Willow had quickly abandoned the spell, trying to erase all traces of the magic. She couldn’t change the fact that Oz and Cordelia knew that she’d tried to cast an anti-lust spell, nor could she lie about why she’d tried one in the first place.

 

Both Cordelia and Oz had been understandably angry. Cordelia wasn’t speaking to Xander at all, but she was making it known that she had dumped him completely. It wasn’t doing much for her reputation, and Willow couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt, even though she didn’t like Cordelia much. The other girl didn’t have many friends these days.

 

Oz had told her he needed time, and that he didn’t really want to talk to her for a while.

 

That left the only other person harmed by the spell—Spike.

 

The vampire opened the front door and fixed her with a glare. “Red.”

 

He’d been so nice to her up till now that Willow gulped audibly. “I’m really, really sorry, Spike,” she said before he could close the door in her face.

 

Spike gave her a sour look and then sighed. “Come in.”

 

“I’m really, really, really sorry,” Willow repeated. She held out the plate of cookies. “Do you like cookies?”

 

An unwilling smile twisted his lips. “I wouldn’t say no to one.” Spike led the way to the kitchen, leaving Willow to follow in his wake. He was dressed in a rumpled t-shirt and jeans and was still limping slightly. She winced, wondering if Xander had apologized yet, or if Spike had let him.

 

“Spike, I—”

 

“If you apologize one more time, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions,” he warned her. “Tea?”

 

“Sure,” she squeaked, swallowing her next attempt to plead forgiveness.

 

Spike went about putting the kettle on, finally coming to sit down at the small table. “Thanks,” he said as he took a cookie from the plate she held out.

 

“It’s the least I could do,” Willow replied.

 

An uncomfortable silence fell, although Willow got the sense that Spike wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as she was. “Did you finally come clean?”

 

“Yeah,” Willow replied. “Oz isn’t talking to me.”

 

“And Cordelia?”

 

“Really not talking to Xander,” Willow replied. “It’s not good.”

 

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Spike sighed, shaking his head. “Look, Red, I’m not that angry. Bit upset about the hole in my leg, and getting chased all over by the two of you wasn’t fun, but I’ll survive.”

 

Willow flushed. “About what happened—”

 

“We’re not going there,” Spike said firmly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

Willow nodded. “Okay. I don’t really want to talk about it either. Well, I wouldn’t mind talking to Oz, but he won’t even look at me.”

 

“Give him time, pet,” Spike advised gently. “It’s a bit of a stunner to find out your girl’s been making time with another guy.”

 

Willow’s lip trembled. The last thing she wanted to do was end up crying on Spike’s shoulder, especially since she’d come to say she was sorry. Still, she’d found herself shedding a few tears over this. The idea that she might have lost Oz hurt a lot. “Yeah, I just—”

 

Spike realized that she was going to cry, and he had no idea what to do. The last of his annoyance melted away at the sight of her wide, teary eyes. He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine, luv.”

 

She bobbed her head, trying to force back her tears. “Sure,” she said bravely.

 

Spike quickly poured both a cup of tea for both of them, anything to avoid seeing her blubber. He felt responsible in a way, thinking that he might have done something to help Willow avoid this situation.

 

In that moment, something inside Spike gave way, and he finally admitted that he cared. He was irrevocably connected to the goings on in Sunnydale, to the Slayer and her friends. It wasn’t just about defeating the bad guys, either, or killing demons. It was also about the little things that made up everyday life, the things he hadn’t worried about as a vampire.

 

For the first time in a century, Spike felt completely real—completely solid.

 

Hoping to distract Willow enough so that he wouldn’t have to see her cry, Spike said, “Have I ever told you how I got into the mercenary business, Red?”

 

Willow perked up immediately. “No. I just thought that you started charging money.”

 

Spike chuckled. “Not quite. I’m afraid it wasn’t nearly as well thought out as all that. Once I got free of Angelus and the others, I decided to find the gypsies that had given me the soul. I wanted to know what the hell they’d really done to me. Angelus might have been content to take it as his just deserts, but that wasn’t good enough for me.”

 

“When was this?” Willow asked.

 

Spike frowned, trying to remember. “Round about the turn of the century, maybe just after. Dru and Darla took off for China and the Boxer Rebellion around that time, but we’d been in Russia up till then.”

 

“Were you there during the revolution?” Willow asked. “In Russia, I mean?”

 

“Got out before then,” he replied. “That’s about the time I got into this business, though. No, I took off. Took me a couple of years to find the gypsies responsible for the curse. They’d gone to ground to avoid Darla, and they were slippery bastards. I finally found them, convinced one of them to talk to me.”

 

Spike sipped at his tea, relieved that Willow was looking entranced rather than tearful at this point. “Turns out I found the only one of them with a brain. When he told me about the curse, and the loophole, I insisted he make the soul permanent. It took a bit of doing, but they decided that it was only right since I asked for it. I wasn’t the one who had eaten a member of their clan, yeah?”

 

Willow nodded. “So that’s when the soul was made permanent?”

 

“That’s right. It was probably 1904 by the time they finally got around to doing it.” Spike shrugged. “I was living off animals as well as the occasional human that crossed me. There were plenty of people who deserved to get eaten. Usually waited for one of them to try to rob me.” He grinned at her. “I looked like an easy target, you see.”

 

Willow wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but the story was too fascinating for her to want him to stop. “Then what?”

 

“Just so happened I was in Belgium at the beginning of the first World War,” Spike replied. “Got caught behind German lines and came across a pocket of Belgians wanting to get out of the country. Britain had just declared war, and I knew the Germans would think I was a spy if I got caught. Not that I would have let them kill me, but sometimes it’s best to avoid trouble. So when the Belgians offered me money in exchange for guiding them out of the country by the backroads, I agreed.” Spike shrugged. “That was that. I figured I could have fun and make money at the same time.”

 

Willow couldn’t help herself. “Did you ever have any girlfriends?”

 

“Not as such, no,” Spike replied. “There was a French Resistance fighter during the second World War. Her name was Anouk, but it didn’t last.”

 

Willow stared into her mug of tea as though it would tell her the future. “Do you think Oz will forgive me?”

 

“Dunno, Red,” Spike said gently. “He just might.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“For what?”

 

“For distracting me.” Willow smiled at him. “This was the first time in two days that I’ve actually been able to forget about how bad I feel.”

 

Spike ducked his head, suddenly shy. “Glad to help.”

 

~~~~~

 

Cordelia couldn’t help but feel relieved that she’d managed to do some damage control. People knew that she’d dumped Xander, but the rumors were that she’d finally come to her senses. No one seemed to know the truth—that he’d cheated on her.

 

Of course, her friends were still avoiding her. It wasn’t just Buffy—that Cordelia had expected. After all, she had never been best friends with the Slayer. The others, though, the popular crowd, were regarding her with a mixture of pity and condescension. She just hoped that the insanity of falling in love with Xander Harris wouldn’t completely ruin the rest of her high school career.

 

Either that or she had found a new calling as a loner.

 

Pretending to be fine was getting really old, though, and part of Cordelia wanted to take Xander back, just so she wasn’t alone.

 

“Hey.”

 

Cordelia looked over to see the new girl, Anya Jenkins, standing there. “Oh, hi. Have you come to insult me, too?”

 

“Hardly,” Anya replied. “I’m just thankful that there’s at least one person in this town who knows something about fashion.”

 

Cordelia relaxed. “Well, if you’re not afraid to be seen with me…”

 

Anya snorted. “Please. I know how it is. The guy gets beneath your defenses with sweet words, and kissing, and the next thing you know you’re going out with him.”

 

“Pretty much,” Cordelia agreed. Lowering her voice, she added, “I even had his picture in my locker.”

 

Anya shook her head and tisked. “Men.”

 

“No kidding,” Cordelia said with a sigh.

 

Anya’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you just wish something bad would happen to him?”

 

Cordelia shook her head. “I don’t wish, I act.” She looked down the hallway where Xander was standing with Buffy and Willow and laughing. Cordelia huffed. “I love that. He’s the one who—acts like an idiot, and yet he still has friends. What is up with that?”

 

“It’s completely unfair,” Anya agreed, sensing her opportunity.

 

Cordelia sniffed. “If it wasn’t for Buffy, none of this would have happened, you know. She’s the only reason I kissed Xander in the first place, which was what got me into this mess.”

 

“It would be nice if they got what was coming to them,” Anya suggested hopefully.

 

Cordelia sighed. “I wish Buffy Summers had never come to Sunnydale.” For a moment, Cordelia thought she’d seen Anya’s face change into that of a demon’s, but she dismissed the idea. Anya looked perfectly normal. The wish had been cathartic, however, and suddenly a million things occurred to Cordelia that would be nice to see happen. “In fact,” she added with a smile, “I wish Buffy had never been born! I wish Xander would never know the touch of a woman. And that Willow wakes up tomorrow covered in monkey hair!”

 

Anya was left standing by the lockers, trying to figure out why she couldn’t grant the simplest of wishes.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy was getting used to making the rounds by herself. Faith hadn’t been around much lately, and this was the first time in two weeks that Faith had agreed to meet her for a routine patrol. She couldn’t help but wonder if something about Gwendolyn Post’s betrayal had harmed their relationship as well. Spike had been M.I.A., too. Willow had told Buffy about going to see him and that he’d still been limping. Buffy couldn’t blame him. As crazy as things had gotten, with Spike caught squarely in the middle, it made sense that he’d want to maintain his distance.

 

Buffy was a little surprised to find Faith with Spike when she met up with the other Slayer for patrol. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Figured I’d tag along if you don’t mind.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Buffy replied quickly. “Were you out patrolling already?”

 

There was a long pause. Finally, Faith rolled her eyes. “We left together.”

 

Buffy blinked. “Huh?”

 

“Faith’s staying at my place,” Spike explained. He glanced at Faith. “I thought you’d already told her.”

 

She waved it off as though it wasn’t a big deal. “Haven’t had the chance.”

 

Buffy felt like she’d just been gut-punched. It wasn’t like she had any say in where Faith was living, or in who Spike was seeing, but she felt a flare of jealousy anyway. With some effort, Buffy pushed the feeling to the side. There was no way she was going to let on to how she was feeling. “That’s great,” she said, forcing a smile. “Anything has to be better than that motel, right?”

 

“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Faith replied. “At least now I don’t have to listen to people screaming all day, you know?” She bounced a little bit. “You ready to go?”

 

Buffy brought her focus on the task at hand. She couldn’t let on that the news had thrown her, because Spike would notice that her patrolling was off, and then he’d tell Giles, and Giles would make his worried face and give her more training exercises. Which would then cut into what limited free time she had.

 

Besides, there was no way she was going to let on to Spike that she was jealous.

 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

 

Spike had heard Buffy’s rocketing heartbeat, and he knew she was taking the news the wrong way. Although he wanted to straighten things out with her, he didn’t dare bring it up while Faith was present. Spike liked Faith well enough, but she was a prickly chit, and he knew that she’d take his justification of their arrangement the wrong way.

 

Faith would either take it as a challenge or she’d take it as an insult, especially when he explained that there wasn’t anything between them.

 

Patrol was relatively uneventful. Even vampire activity seemed to be greatly reduced as of late. Spike didn’t trust the quiet. It felt wrong, like something was coming.

 

After a while, Faith took off as he’d expected her to. Spike had noticed that she wasn’t comfortable around a lot of people, especially when they weren’t strangers.

 

Faith didn’t like people knowing her. He understood that feeling.

 

As soon as Faith had taken off, Buffy announced that she needed to head home as well. “I’ve got some homework to finish.”

 

“Buffy,” Spike began.

 

She headed off towards Revello Drive at a fast clip. “Don’t worry about walking me home.”

 

“It’s not what you’re thinking.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Buffy replied.

 

Spike rolled his eyes. “I have a spare room. Faith is using it. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

 

“I don’t have any say over who stays in your house, Spike,” Buffy replied. “So I really don’t care.”

 

“Don’t be like this.”

 

“Like what?”

 

Spike grabbed Buffy’s arm, pulling her to a stop. “You know like what. Look, I’m sorry you had to find out like that.”

 

“You’re not involved with her. Faith’s just staying with you.” Buffy shrugged, feigning indifference. “It’s not a big deal.”

 

Spike raised his eyebrows, amused. “I know you better than that, luv.”

 

Buffy opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. She glared at him. “How could you tell?”

 

“Your heartbeat.”

 

“Damn vamp senses.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

He wasn’t. Buffy could see the amusement in his eyes, and she started walking again, albeit a little slower this time. “It’s just—I like Faith, Spike, but she’s totally going to try to get into your pants.”

 

“And I already told her that it wasn’t going to happen.” Spike smiled. “Buffy, I like Faith, but I don’t have any intention of getting involved with her. It’s bad policy.”

 

She shrugged. “It just seems like you two would have a lot in common.”

 

“No more than any other two people,” he replied.

 

Buffy hesitated, then asked, “Do you want to spend Christmas Eve with us?”

 

“Pardon?” Spike asked.

 

“It’s just that Mom said I should ask you, and it’s not that far away,” she explained. “You should ask Faith too. I was going to, but then I forgot.”

 

Spike frowned. “Christmas Eve?”

 

“I know vampires probably don’t celebrate Christmas or anything,” Buffy admitted. “It’s just that nobody should have to be alone for the holidays.”

 

“No, I guess not,” Spike said slowly.

 

Buffy couldn’t read his face, and she wondered suddenly if she’d somehow managed to offend him. “If you don’t want to—”

 

“No!” he said quickly, interrupting her. “No, it’d be nice, actually. Been an age since…” Spike trailed off. “Thank Joyce for me, will you?”

 

“Okay.” Buffy stood on her front step, looking down at him. “Well…”

 

“Yeah.” Spike backed off slowly. “I’ll be seeing you.”

 

“Right. Probably before then.”

 

“Probably so.”

 

The moment was a lot more awkward than it should have been. “Good night, Spike.”

 

“’Night, Summers.”

 

Buffy watched him disappear into the shadows and cursed her rotten luck. It had to be another vampire, didn’t it? She had to like another vampire.


	20. Chapter 20

**“into the strenuous briefness/Life:/handorgans and April/darkness,friends/i charge laughing./Into the hair-thin tints/of yellow dawn,/into the women-coloured twilight/i smilingly/glide. I/into the big vermilion departure/swim,sayingly;/(Do you think?)the/i do,world/is probably made/of roses & hello:/(of solongs and,ashes)” ~e.e. cummings, “into the strenuous briefness”**

 

Spike had never lived with anyone before, so he wasn’t sure how things were going to work with Faith. There was a part of him that fully expected to deeply regret making the offer after she’d moved her things in.

 

It turned out that you could live with a person and never see them, however. Even though they kept basically the same hours, Faith would often be gone before the sun went down, and then wouldn’t return until after it had risen. When Spike extended Buffy’s offer to spend Christmas Eve, she was evasive, telling him that she had a party to go to, but she’d think about it.

 

It was probably a good thing Spike hadn’t expected much in the way of bonding.

 

He had his own problems, anyway. The nightmares were back full-force.

 

It wasn’t a new phenomenon, of course. Spike had experienced them nearly every time he went to sleep for the first ten years or so after he’d gotten the soul. Once he’d managed to get away from Angelus and the others, the nightmares had been about being recaptured and tortured all over again.

 

Spike had a pretty good idea of why they were coming back now. Emotions he had long since buried and abandoned were beginning to well up again. With emotion came desire, and with desire—

 

Well, with desire often came love, and Spike had had his fill of that. His ability to love had died the day Drusilla had watched when he freed himself, only to crow with delight when Angelus entered the room.

 

His memory of the next week was completely gone. Spike just knew that it had been bad, because he’d blanked out most of it.

 

It had been _really_ bad.

 

The trouble was, it was all starting to come back in bits and pieces. So far he hadn’t actually woken up screaming, which was a relief. Spike had no desire to have to explain things to Faith.

 

There was a part of him that wanted to pull back, even now. That wanted to back out of Christmas Eve, that wanted to go back to skulking in dark corners, keeping his relationships on a business-only level.

 

And Spike knew that it was too late for that. The Powers That Screwed With You had buggered him royally.

 

There was nothing for it but to make the best of things.

 

It just meant that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep at all for a while.

 

~~~~~

 

“So, you and Oz?” Buffy asked quietly.

 

Willow gave her friend a nervous smile. “We’re getting together at my place to watch videos since my parents are going to be out of town.”

 

“That’s good!” Buffy was happy for her friend. Willow had been trying really hard to get back into Oz’s good graces.

 

She nodded hesitantly. “In a really awkward way. I just want him to trust me again.”

 

“Xander has a piece of you that Oz will never be able to touch,” Buffy pointed out. “Now it’s just a matter of showing him that he comes first.”

 

“He really does,” Willow said. “I still don’t know what I was doing, you know? At least Spike forgave me.” She blushed a bright red at the memory of what she’d done under the spell. It could have been much worse, however. She knew that much.

 

“Spike’s that kind of guy.” Buffy couldn’t hold back her wistful smile.

 

Something in the Slayer’s tone had Willow looking at her sharply. “You like him.”

 

“What?”

 

“You like Spike.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No! I mean, okay, yeah, as a friend, but—”

 

“You _like_ him, like him,” Willow argued. “I can see it. You have the same look you did when—” She stopped there, but Buffy knew exactly what she was saying.

 

“Which is why I’m not going there,” Buffy said. “Besides, Spike has made it very clear that he has no feelings for me. We’re very much just friends.”

 

“But—”

 

“Friends,” Buffy repeated firmly. Her tone softened. “I really do like him, Will. As a friend. It’s easy to forget that he’s a vampire.”

 

Willow shook her head. “Buffy, Spike’s soul is permanent. You know he wouldn’t go evil on you. Besides, he’s definitely different than Angel.”

 

Buffy sighed. “I know he is. I’d rather leave things the way they are than ruin what we have, though.” She laughed a little. “It’s fine. He’s coming for Christmas Eve, along with Faith and Giles. It should be quite a gathering.”

 

“That’s good, Buffy,” Willow said. “I mean, it’s good that you guys are friends.”

 

“It is,” Buffy agreed. “It’s really good.”

 

Willow grinned. “Good.”

 

~~~~~

 

Christmas Eve was incredibly uncomfortable. Faith obviously felt as though she was out of place, even though she was trying to have a good time. Joyce and Giles had a thin undercurrent of tension running between them, although that was because they were both trying not to reveal how close they really were.

 

Spike was tired and unfocused from lack of sleep, although he was doing an admirable job of covering it up. And Buffy felt like she was caught in the middle of a maelstrom of emotions.

 

It got better after dinner. Faith made her excuses around nine, and Joyce and Giles took their drinks out to the living room, leaving Spike and Buffy alone in the kitchen.

 

“I need a fag,” Spike muttered, patting his pockets.

 

Buffy hesitated. “You mind if I join you?”

 

“Not at all.” She followed him onto the back porch, and Spike lit up a cigarette, taking an appreciative drag. “How are you, luv?”

 

Buffy glanced over at him in surprise at the warmth of his tone. It was almost—intimate. “What do you mean?”

 

“With Angelus being gone, I mean,” he clarified. “This is the time of the year to miss the ones who aren’t around.”

 

Buffy blinked slowly, frowning. “I haven’t even thought about Angel in a while now. I mean, I still think about him, but it’s different now. It doesn’t hurt as much.” She wrapped her arms around her knees, looking off into the darkness. “We did have some good times, you know, but it was mostly all sneaking around and fighting evil. I don’t know if that makes sense at all.”

 

“Sure it does,” Spike replied. “He wasn’t a part of your daily life, so you can go about your day without too many reminders of him.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “It was almost a year ago now that he lost his soul, you know.” She glanced over at him. “Has anyone told you how it happened?”

 

Spike managed to hide a wince. While he’d laughed at the idea of Angel having his perfect moment by finding “some brainless chit to fall in love with him,” he hadn’t really thought about it from the girl’s perspective.

 

Buffy was certainly not brainless.

 

“I gather Angel fell in love with you.”

 

“It was on my birthday.” Buffy’s face reflected pain, but it was a pain gentled by time.

 

Spike’s eyes widened as her meaning settled in. “Shit. I’m sorry, Buffy.”

 

“Yeah. It sucked.” She frowned, then snuck a look at him from the corner of her eye. “But I’m not really sorry it happened.”

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“Because you wouldn’t have come to Sunnydale otherwise.”

 

The silence lay between them, heavy with promise. “Buffy—”

 

She took the hoarse bewilderment in his voice for rejection. “It’s okay. I mean, I know—”

 

Spike stopped her words with a gentle finger on her lips. “I’m glad I came too.”

 

It was all either one of them were willing to say at the moment. Buffy wasn’t quite ready to trust her heart to another man—let alone another vampire. Spike wasn’t quite ready to believe he could love someone again.

 

They had both thought love was dead, but the first seeds were beginning to wake in their hearts.

 

~~~~~

 

Joyce felt horribly guilty. Of course, this wasn’t the first time she’d been seeing someone without letting Buffy know about it, but it was different this time. This time, Buffy knew the man as well as, if not better than, Joyce did.

 

She just didn’t want to risk her relationship with Rupert, knowing that Buffy’s disapproval was nearly certain. He was another adult who shared her interests and concerns. She hadn’t had that in so long—not since the early years of her marriage to Hank.

 

Besides, the sex was great.

 

In less than a year, Buffy would be going to college, and that would be the time to tell her about the fact that her friendship with Giles was a little more than that. Her daughter wouldn’t be able to do much from a distance.

 

Joyce knew from her experience with Ted that Buffy was a pro at sabotaging things—although, she couldn’t regret it in Ted’s case.

 

Still, there was no fear that Giles was an evil android, or that he and Buffy wouldn’t get along. Really, the whole situation was perfect, save for the fact that Buffy didn’t know, and when she did find out, would probably go a little nuts.

 

It was guilt, plus a lingering curiosity that brought Joyce out to visit Buffy while she patrolled. Hot chocolate and cookies seemed the perfect way to assuage her growing uneasiness. Unfortunately, Joyce got a chance to see Buffy’s work up close and personal.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike hadn’t seen anyone for a couple of days. Willow had notified him about Buffy’s upcoming birthday, and he’d needed to retrieve her gift. Or commission it, rather. When he got back, the whole town was in an uproar over two dead children. There was a very nasty feeling to the whole affair that made Spike nervous.

 

He still wasn’t expecting to get shot at when he went to the Summers’ house to find Buffy, though. “Spike.” Joyce was standing in the doorway, holding a crossbow.

 

“Joyce?” Spike asked, holding up his hands reflexively. “What’s going on?”

 

She appeared extremely calm. “We’re rooting out the bad elements in town. I’m sure you heard about what happened.”

 

Spike backed up a step. “Yeah, but I’ve been out of town. You know I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

 

“That’s not important,” Joyce replied. “What’s important is that it was the occult that killed these children, and you’re a part of the occult. Spike, I’m sorry, but you’re just not welcome here any longer.”

 

It was a very good thing that Joyce didn’t have any training, since her shot went slightly wide, hitting him in the right shoulder and missing his heart. Spike was too stunned to move right away, but when she started trying to load another bolt, he took off, clutching his wounded shoulder.

 

Spike kept going until he was certain that no one was going to be coming after him, finally stopping in a park, deserted at that late hour. With an angry hiss, he yanked the bolt out of his shoulder and stared at the bloody shaft in disbelief. He’d thought that Joyce liked him, had thought he could trust her. Now she was trying to kill him for no other reason than because he was a vampire.

 

“I should have bloody well known,” he growled, tossing the bolt into the grass. “What the sodding hell was I thinking?”

 

“Spike?”  


He rose, readying himself to fight if he needed to. Buffy was hurrying towards him. “What do you want?”

 

“Were you at our house?”

 

“Yeah, I—”

 

“Did Mom hurt you?” Buffy came over quickly, spotting the dark circle on his shirt. “Are you okay?”

 

Her concern relaxed him slightly. “I’ll be fine. I’ve gotten shot more often in the last month than I have in the last ten years, though.”

 

Buffy led him over to the swings, where she pushed him to sit. “Hold still and let me see.”

 

“What’s going on, Buffy?” Spike asked quietly. “I didn’t—I don’t understand why your mum was so upset with me.”

 

The Slayer shook her head. “It’s not you, I promise. There’s something really strange going on.”

 

“The kids that were killed?” he asked, keeping an eye on what she was doing. Buffy had pulled his shirt aside, stretching the neck to get a glimpse of the wound.

 

“Yeah. Mom came to see me while I was patrolling, and she found their bodies. It really shook her up, but the whole town seems to have gone crazy. They searched all the lockers today for ‘occult materials,’ and Willow’s been grounded completely. It’s bad.”

 

Spike snorted. “And your mum tried to kill me. I guess that makes sense.”

 

“Where have you been, anyway? I haven’t seen you for the last couple of days.”

 

“Had to run an errand,” Spike replied. “Just got back tonight. How are you doing?”

 

“Fine,” she said.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem fine.”

 

“Well, on top of the fact that my mom tried to kill one of my friends, she also said that me being the Slayer was fruitless. No fruit for Buffy.” She sighed. “I actually thought that she was beginning to understand what me being the Slayer meant.”

 

Spike touched her hand with his good arm. “Buffy, you do good. You do as much as any of us can do. There’s a lot of evil in this world, and there isn’t much we can do about it. But we can fight it.”

 

“Like you do?” she asked rhetorically. “Do you ever get tired, Spike?”

 

“All the bloody time, luv,” he said. “Look, you tell me where you want me, and we’ll see about figuring out what killed those kids. How old were they again?”

 

Buffy opened her mouth to reply and then snapped it shut again. “I don’t know. They looked about seven or eight, but—” She stared at him. “I don’t know anything about them.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“I don’t know their names, where they went to school, nothing! I haven’t even seen their parents. You would think they’d be the ones leading this campaign, not my mom.” Buffy straightened. “We need to know more about those children. Let’s see if we can’t find Giles in the library. He should still be there.” She gave Spike a sympathetic look. “He’ll have bandages for your shoulder too.”

 

“What are we waiting for, then?” Spike asked gamely.

 

Buffy reached for his arm before she could stop herself. “Spike, whatever is going on—Mom likes you. I’m sure she didn’t mean to try and kill you.”

 

A pained expression crossed his face and he gave a short nod. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

 

Spike wasn’t certain of anything, nor was he sure he could trust anyone at this point. Except, perhaps, for Buffy.

 

~~~~~

 

The feeling of tension in the library was nearly palpable. It went beyond Giles’ anger at his inability to work with the computer, or Oz’s concern for Willow, or even Xander’s continual joking. There was the sense like that of the air right before a heavy storm, full of electricity and danger.

 

Oz was plugging away on the computer as Willow sent information their way. Spike listened in, waiting patiently for Buffy to finish her first aid job. He couldn’t quite control his reaction to her hands on his bare skin. She was being a lot gentler with him than she’d been in the past.

 

The tension that hung between them had the same impending feeling, but without the danger.

 

“Willow says that the articles pop up every fifty years, as far back as 1649,” Oz said.

 

Giles peered at the screen. “Hans Strauss, age eight, and Greta Strauss, age six.”

 

“What about it?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike was frowning. “You thinking a paranoia demon of some sort, Watcher?”

 

Giles nodded slowly, explaining for the benefit of the others, “There are demons that stir up feelings of hatred and violence among humans, feeding on those emotions. I imagine we’ve got one of those on our hands.”

 

“So what’s this about Hans and Greta?” Xander asked.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Seems to me we’ve got something out of the Brothers Grimm here.”

 

“Hansel and Gretel,” Oz observed.

 

“As in breadcrumbs, evil witches, and gingerbread?” Xander asked, looking around the room.

 

Buffy shook her head. “Hansel and Gretel come back to the village, tell the people about the nasty, evil witch—”

 

“And a mob kills a great many innocent people,” Giles finished. “Yes, I think that’s exactly what’s going on.”

 

“So, what do we do about it?” Oz asked.

 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to trade in my cow for some beans,” Xander joked.

 

Spike rolled his eyes. “Enough, Harris. This is serious.”

 

Xander opened his mouth to argue, but Buffy cut him off. “We need to go find my mom. When we explain this, she’ll defuse the whole thing.”

 

Spike stood to go with her, but Buffy shook her head. “No, Spike, I’m not going to risk you. She may decide to shoot first and listen to us later.” The doors to the library flew open, and a boy Spike didn’t recognize ran in, out of breath, his face bruised and bleeding. “What happened, Michael?” Buffy asked.

 

“I was attacked.”

 

“By who?” Buffy asked.

 

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “My dad, his friends, a bunch of others. They’re going door to door, and they’re talking about a trial at City Hall. They got Amy.”

 

“Michael, stay here and hide. Giles, let’s find my mom.”

 

Oz was looking at the last instant message that Willow had sent. He glanced over at Spike. “Willow!”

 

Spike nodded. If he couldn’t go with the Slayer, he would help Oz find Willow. He was just as concerned about the girl as the werewolf. “Let’s go.”

 

“Hide in my office,” Giles was saying to Michael as Spike followed Oz out of the library, Xander close on their heels.  


“Wait up,” he called. “So what’s the plan?”

 

Spike and Oz shared a look. “We rescue the girl,” Spike said. “What else?”


	21. Chapter 21

**“I want to look back and see you in the branches./Little by little you turned into fruit./It was easy for you to rise from the roots,/singing your syllable of sap./Here you will be a fragrant flower first,/changed to the statuesque form of a kiss,/till the sun and the earth, blood and the sky, fulfill/their promises of sweetness and pleasure in you…my mouth will fill with the taste of you,/the kiss that rose from the earth/with your blood, the blood of a lover’s fruit.” ~Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet XLVII”**

 

Willow’s bedroom was a complete shambles when they arrived, showing the signs of a struggle. Spike watched as Oz’s hands clenched and unclenched in anger. He understood the feeling quite well. The idea that someone would harm Willow—

 

“We have to get to City Hall,” Oz stated.

 

Spike turned to leave. “Let’s go.”

 

Even Xander was serious at this point, his dark eyes grim. They took Oz’s van to City Hall, since it was available. The trip took only a few minutes, and all three hit the front doors, immediately coming face to face with a small knot of men.

 

Spike smiled, and the expression wasn’t a pleasant one. “What’s going on here, mates?”

 

“We’re conducting a trial,” one of the men responded, staring at the three suspiciously. “Only members of MOO are allowed in.”

 

“MOO?” Spike asked.

  
“Mothers Opposed to the Occult,” a second man supplied.

 

Spike frowned, pretending to give the name due consideration. “You know,” he began, “I’ve been out of town for the last couple days, missed the whole thing. That organization sounds like something I could get behind.”

 

Spike was only a couple of paces away from the men, and when he saw that they’d relaxed their guard slightly, his fist shot out, immediately putting one of the guards down. The other three pounced on the vampire, but he was more than a match for them, in spite of the wound in his shoulder.

 

When all four men lay on the floor, unconscious, Spike smirked. “That was bracing.” He pushed the door open, allowing the two boys to slip in first before following them.

 

“Now what?” Xander hissed. Joyce was saying that she had wanted a normal daughter, and torches were being lit all over the room. “We can’t fight an entire crowd.”

 

Spike felt his stomach drop when he saw that Buffy was one of those tied to a stake. He pulled a switchblade out of his jacket pocket. “I need a distraction,” he muttered. “Can you get me one?”

 

Oz glanced over to the fire hose. “Done.”

 

Spike started skirting the crowd carefully, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone with a torch. He was, after all, highly flammable.

 

Amy shouted something, but Spike wasn’t paying attention to her. His focus was solely on Buffy, his fear that he wouldn’t be able to reach her before she got burnt. Willow cried out, and he was torn between who to go to first.

 

Just then, the water from the fire hose began to hit the crowd and the flaming books, alternating between targets. Spike took his opportunity, dashing in to first cut Willow’s bonds, then Buffy’s. The crowd was shouting and milling about helplessly when Giles arrived, Joyce demanding that the people stop the girls from escaping.

 

The two children were calling out for the bad girls to be punished, and Giles began to chant in nearly unintelligible German. Spike winced at the Watcher’s accent, even as he put Willow behind him. “What is Giles doing?” Buffy asked.

 

“Something about unveiling the demon’s true face,” Spike replied, frowning. “I can barely tell what the bloody hell he’s saying, though.”

 

Willow caught sight of Oz through the crowd. “Oz!”

 

“He’s fine where he is, pet,” Spike assured her. “Stay put ‘til Giles does his mojo.”

 

Giles finished the spell, throwing a bottle to the floor. Smoke rose up, obscuring the figures of the children briefly before it cleared. The two blond innocents had become a seven foot tall demon. The remaining crowd began to scream, including Joyce.

 

Buffy didn’t waste any time. She jumped onto the pile of books, using her strength to pull the large stake up and run it through the demon’s chest. It collapsed with a groan and silence fell over the shocked crowd.

 

“Willow, you okay?” Oz asked, running over to her.

 

She nodded. “Fine,” she replied, grabbing onto him.

 

Joyce looked at the demon in horror, then turned her eyes on Buffy and Spike. “Oh, dear.”

 

~~~~~

 

“I’m so very sorry.” It was the fifth time that night that Joyce had apologized. Buffy had been soaked by the fire hose, and Joyce had insisted that Spike come back to the house with them when she drove Buffy to get showered and changed.

 

Spike shrugged uncomfortably. Now that he knew Joyce’s attitude was caused by the spell, he was more inclined to forgive and forget. “It’s fine. Wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I should have known,” Joyce insisted, putting a few more miniature marshmallows in his mug of hot chocolate. “I mean, the children were dead and they were talking to me. Rupert wasn’t taken in.”

 

Spike smiled. “Rupert’s had a few more years experience with this sort of thing, luv. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

 

“But I shot you!” Joyce protested. “I really am—”

 

Spike held up a hand to stop her. “Tell you what. If you stop apologizing, I’ll promise not to hold it against you.”

 

Joyce nodded, giving him a rueful smile. “Fair enough.”

 

Buffy entered the kitchen, dressed in sweats, her hair still wet. “Ooh, hot chocolate,” she said. “Just what I need.”

 

“Buffy, I’m—”

 

The Slayer held up a hand in an unconscious imitation of the vampire. “Mom, it’s no biggie. No one got hurt, and that’s all that matters.” She paused. “Although, I don’t know if Willow knows how to de-rat Amy.”

 

“That was a neat trick,” Spike commented. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that before.”

 

Buffy grimaced. “Trust me. It’s not nearly as fun as it looks.”

 

Joyce looked at her daughter strangely. “How would you know?”

 

“You remember last year when Xander was being chased by all those women, including you?” Buffy asked with a smug smile.

 

A tinge of pink entered the woman’s cheeks. “I vaguely recall finding Xander and Cordelia in my basement,” was all she would admit to.

 

“Well, Amy turned me into a rat to give her a better chance with Xander,” Buffy explained. “It was interesting, especially the part where I got turned back with no clothes on right in front of Oz.”

 

“Lucky man,” Spike muttered into his hot chocolate, not quite loud enough for Joyce to hear.

 

Buffy caught it, however, giving Spike’s leg a surreptitious kick under the counter. “Shut up.”

 

“Buffy,” Joyce warned her.

 

Buffy had no desire to explain why she was telling Spike to shut up, so she didn’t argue. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

 

“I should be going then,” he said, standing. To his surprise, Joyce came over and gave him a gentle hug.

 

“I’m glad you’re okay, William,” she murmured into his ear. “I never would have forgiven myself if I had hurt you.”

 

Spike didn’t bother pointing out that she had hurt him, even if she hadn’t done any permanent damage. He was still reeling from the hug.

 

He hadn’t been hugged like that since before he’d become a vampire.

 

Spike returned the embrace out of long-buried reflex. “Don’t worry about it,” he insisted.

 

Joyce released him, and Spike headed for the front door, Buffy right behind him. “Thanks for showing up tonight.”

 

He shrugged. “Didn’t do all that much.”

 

“You did lots.” Buffy smiled at him.

 

They stared at each other for a few moments, neither knowing quite what to say. “I should go.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Spike finally turned towards the door, breaking the silence. “Good night, Buffy.”

 

Buffy stopped him with a hand on his arm, telling herself that she was only doing what she would have done for Xander had he saved her. The kiss was on Spike’s cheek, so it was no more than a friendly gesture.

 

Buffy could do denial better than anyone.

 

Spike stared at her in surprise, then he smiled, slipping out into the night without saying anything.

 

~~~~~

 

Oz sat, waiting patiently for Willow to finish showering. Sheila had driven Willow home, but he really hadn’t wanted to let her out of his sight. She’d let him in through her garden doors, asking if he would mind if she showered. The smell of smoke had still clung to her skin and hair.

 

She could wash the smell away, but Oz couldn’t shake the sense that he’d nearly lost her.

 

Willow slipped into her room, shutting the door quietly behind her. “Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

She came to him willingly, burying her face in his shoulder as he stroked her hair. “Thanks for staying.”

 

“I had to be sure you were okay.”

 

They sat quietly. This was what Willow loved best about Oz: his ability to simply be. It was the perfect balance to her often-frenetic pace. He provided a certain kind of stability. She still couldn’t quite believe that she’d almost thrown this away.

 

“Mom said you had to come to dinner,” Willow said softly. “She’s pretty much forgotten the rest of it, but she remembers me saying I was dating you.”

 

Oz smiled. “How bad could it be?”

 

“Pretty bad,” Willow replied. “She’ll talk a lot about how I’m asserting my independence by dating outside my religion, and then she’ll say that she supports my autonomy when she really means she disapproves.”

 

He brushed her hair back from her face. “Is that a problem?”

 

“No.” She took a deep breath, inhaling the earthy scent that was uniquely Oz. It was soap and skin and something just a little wilder. “It’s not like she really cares anyway.”

 

Oz tightened his grip, a wordless affirmation that he did.

 

“Oz?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Thanks for coming for me.” Willow grinned. “You guys were cool.”

 

Oz could do nothing but smile back. He loved her so much it scared him sometimes. It scared him how much it could hurt. “We were.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Rupert,” Spike said, surprised to see the Watcher at his door. He looked a little closer. “You alright? You don’t look that great.”

 

Giles gave a quick shake of his head. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

 

“Has someone been keeping you up at night?” Spike asked with a sly smile.

 

The man glared. “No, and even so, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”

 

“Temper, temper,” Spike jibed. “It was a fair question.” His eyes turned suddenly serious. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing.” Giles took a deep breath, hoping that Spike wouldn’t be able to sense the fact that he was lying. “I just wanted to let you know that I wanted to concentrate on other areas of Buffy’s training for the next couple weeks.”

 

Spike’s brow furrowed. “Like what?”

 

“Some of the more arcane aspects of being the Slayer,” Giles replied. “It’s really not necessary for you to be there.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Right. I guess I’ll focus on patrolling, then.”

 

“That would be appreciated.” Giles cleared his throat. “Have you seen Faith recently?”

 

“I don’t keep tabs on her.” Spike poured himself a drink and offered one to Giles. “To answer your question, though, no. Haven’t seen her around today.”

 

“She leaves often?”

 

“Occasionally.” Spike swirled the alcohol in his glass. “We’re not close.”

 

Giles sat down at the table. “I thought—”

 

“Figured I’d offer her a better situation, Rupert, but Faith’s not the sort to let herself get tied down.” Spike stared at the grain of the wood in the table. “She’s a wild one.”

 

“You’re still concerned about her,” Giles stated.

 

Spike nodded slowly. “Told you. She’s a wild child. She might settle, but—I’ve seen that sort before, and it usually takes something to bring them up short.”

 

Giles sighed. “I’m not sure what that would be.”

 

“There’s nothing to be done about it at the moment,” Spike said. “Try to control her, and she’ll go crazy. Give her time, and she might settle. Just depends on what the next few months bring.”

 

Giles stood. “I’ll trust that you know what you’re talking about. Thank you for assisting Buffy with patrol.”

 

“It’s part of the full service package,” Spike replied. “I’ll see you around, Rupert.”

 

Giles nodded, heading out the door, wondering what Spike would do to him when the vampire discovered his role in the Cruciamentum.

 

Giles put a steadying hand on the hood of his car. He had the feeling that if Spike didn’t kill him, Joyce certainly would.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy wondered if there was a way to change her birth date. Maybe if she picked a different day, the bad luck wouldn’t follow her. Buffy wished she could get away with not celebrating, but everyone else seemed intent on partying.

 

All Buffy wanted to do was stay home, watch some TV, and crawl into bed. If there was ice cream involved, that wouldn’t be so bad.

 

She’d thought if she kept her head down, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After almost getting killed the night before, however, it looked like her luck was holding.

 

And it was all bad.

 

Buffy was a little surprised to see Spike when she walked into the kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Hello to you, too, Slayer,” he responded with a smirk.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. I wasn’t expecting you.” Her eyes went to the flowers on the counter. “Ooh, present.”

 

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” Joyce said from her position at the stove. “Your father said he couldn’t get away. Business is very hectic right now. He said he wanted to make it up to you, though, and he sent the tickets.”

 

Buffy plucked the tickets from the arrangement, not even bothering to open the card. It wasn’t fair. Her father had taken her to the ice show every year for her birthday since she was small. It was tradition, and now…

 

She glanced up, inadvertently meeting Spike’s eyes. He was looking at her like _that_ again. Like he felt sorry, like he cared. As though he wanted to make things easier somehow. “It’s fine,” she said. “I was getting a little too old for that kind of thing anyway.” Buffy dropped the tickets on the counter. “I’m going to get changed.”

 

Buffy nearly fled, not wanting either her mom or Spike to see how disappointed she really was. “Looks like it’s going to be another Buffy birthday special,” she muttered.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Spike’s voice came from right behind her, causing her to jump. “Say something, why don’t you! Make some noise!”

 

“You’re the Slayer,” Spike replied. “You’re supposed to know when a vampire is close.”

 

“I knew you were close,” Buffy shot back. “You were in the house.” She paused. “Why are you in the house?”

 

“There a problem with me being here?” Spike asked, his tone intentionally snide. He knew how Buffy liked to work out her anger, and they couldn’t get physical inside the house. Verbal sparring often relieved just as much tension.

 

Buffy lifted her chin. “Yes! You—” She stopped. “No.”

 

This was new. Buffy never called it quits, especially not when they were just getting warmed up. “Are you alright, pet?”

 

Absurdly, Spike’s question made her want to cry. His voice was so gentle. “I really hate it when you do that, you know?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“When you’re that nice.”

 

“You’d rather have me be cruel?”

 

“Sometimes.” Buffy realized that they were standing in the hallway outside of her bedroom, and she went inside to sit on the bed. “It’s just—you can be really nice.”

 

Spike sat down next to her gingerly, knowing that they were close to crossing a line that maybe shouldn’t be crossed. “It’s a character flaw.”

 

“It makes me forget that you’re here to do a job.” Buffy refused to meet his eyes. “It’s almost like you care.”

 

“Maybe that’s because I almost do.” His tone was light, but when she glanced up, Spike’s eyes were dead serious. “Told you before that it’s not just a job.” Spike chuckled nervously. “And while we’re on the topic…”

 

Buffy frowned, not knowing quite what to do when he held out a box. “What’s that?”

 

“Your prezzie, innit?” Spike asked, his voice almost hoarse. “Go ahead then.”

 

She opened the box slowly, staring at the bracelet inside. A silver filigree box hung from a thick silver chain. Buffy reached for it, but Spike’s hand came down over hers before she could touch it. “It’s charmed,” he said quietly. “When you’re wearing it, I’ll be able to find you, no matter where you are. Figured it might come in handy.”

 

“How does it work?” she asked, a little shaky. This felt monumental, though she wasn’t sure why.

 

Spike dug in his pocket for his key ring. A little compass hung off of it. “Looks like a regular compass, but it doesn’t work quite that way,” he explained. “As long as you’re wearing that bracelet, though, it’ll lead me right to you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because,” Spike stopped, unsure of what else he could say. “Because it’s important.” He was silent, watching Buffy as she stared at the piece of jewelry. “You don’t have to—”

 

Whatever else he might have said was cut off when Buffy picked up the bracelet then held out her wrist to him. “I think it’s a really good idea.”

 

Spike made sure the clasp was fully closed. “So you like it?”

 

“It’s beautiful.” Buffy smiled at him. “I don’t wear just any fashion accessory, you know.”

 

He returned her smile, a hint of shyness in his expression that Buffy didn’t think she’d seen before. “I figured.” Her hand was still lying in his, but Spike didn’t make any moves to let her go. “Happy birthday, Buffy.”

 

Buffy felt a warmth spread through her. “Maybe it will be.”


	22. Chapter 22

**“…Where shall I find a red rose budding?—/Out in the garden where all things grow.—/But out in my garden a flood was flooding/And never a red rose began to blow./Out in a flooding what should be budding?/All flooding!/Now is winter and now is sorrow,/No roses but only thorns today:/Thorns will put on roses tomorrow,/Winter and sorrow scudding away,/No more winter and no more sorrow/Tomorrow.” ~Christina Rossetti, “Where Shall I Find a White Rose?”**

 

Spike had been expecting Buffy to arrive for patrol that night. What he hadn’t been expecting was the look of despair on her face.

 

It had been quite a while since either of them had been out on patrol without the other. At this point, it was simply understood that Spike would accompany her. The truth was that both of them enjoyed the other’s presence enough to not avoid the contact.

 

Spike wasn’t quite sure what to do with this Buffy, however. She rarely let any weakness show, and she certainly never volunteered the information. This time Buffy was coming to him not because she wanted him to kill a demon, but because she expected him to cheer her up.

 

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with that.

 

“What’s wrong, luv?” Spike asked immediately.

 

Buffy shook her head, her arms wrapped around herself. She didn’t know what she was doing here. It would have been better to just go home. The hours of research the gang had helped her with had been worthless. There was nothing about curses on Slayers, nothing about why she might suddenly lose all her strength and coordination.

 

When she didn’t reply, Spike led her into the living room with a hand on her back, sitting down on the couch and waiting for her to join him. “Buffy?”

 

“Have—have you ever heard of a curse on Slayers?” Buffy asked, her voice holding an edge of desperation.

 

Spike frowned. “Not that I recall. Nothing specifically for the Slayer anyway. What’s this about then?”

 

Buffy explained about the vampire that had nearly bitten her two nights before, losing her coordination, and—worst of all—not even being able to stop a no-neck from getting rough with Cordelia. “He just shoved me, and I fell on my ass,” Buffy finished. “Giles keeps saying that it’s nothing, that it’s some flu bug.”

 

“You don’t think so?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy shook her head emphatically. “I’ve been sick before, Spike. This isn’t being sick; this is me not being the Slayer.” She stood, beginning to pace. “Who am I if I’m not the Slayer?”

 

Spike stood as well, stopping her by placing his hands on her shoulders. “Buffy, being the Slayer doesn’t have anything to do with being strong. It has to do with you going out night after night, trying to keep the worst from happening.”

 

“How can I do that if I can’t even stop a kid at school? Cordelia did a better job of fending him off than I did.” Buffy shook her head. “If I’m not the Slayer, Spike—”

 

He gave her a little shake. “Quit it, Summers. You _are_ the bloody Slayer. Haven’t you been listening to me?”

 

“You didn’t know me before I got Called,” she argued. “I was worse than Cordelia.”

 

“So what?” Spike shot back. “You’ve changed since then. We all change when we have to.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “You changed.”

 

“I had to.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Buffy said suddenly. “Why do this? You said this isn’t just a job to you anymore, but I don’t know what changed.”

 

He shrugged uncomfortably. “Dunno, luv. It’s just different.”

 

“Spike…”

 

Buffy was asking him to describe what couldn’t be put into words. Spike feared trying to explain, not knowing what her reaction might be, what she might say. He thought she might feel something for him, but his growing affection made him cautious.

 

Spike had cared before, but not like this. Not since Drusilla. And that was the whole problem right there.

 

“It’s not about you being the Slayer,” he finally said. “You—you try.”

 

Buffy watched as he turned away, and she could feel the emotions rolling off him in great waves. Spike frightened her sometimes with his intensity. The depth of feeling that hummed between them.

 

The realization that it was happening again. She was falling in love again.

 

And Spike was just as scared as she was.

 

Buffy took a tentative step forward and laid a hand on his back, the thin material of his t-shirt the only thing that stood between them. Well, that and their pasts, and the whole being a Slayer thing. Those were pretty big, too.

 

They stood like that for a long time, the silence strangely comfortable, before he finally turned to face her. “We’ll get this sorted,” he promised.

 

“I know.” Buffy knew she’d have to make the first move in this case, and so she stepped closer, within the circle of Spike’s arms.

 

Spike held her. It had been so long since he’d been able to indulge in something so simple as a hug. It felt unbelievably good. “I’ll drive you home.”

 

She pulled back slightly. “You don’t have to, Spike.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re joking, right?”

 

“Spike, I—”

 

“Don’t argue.” Spike cut her off abruptly. “I’m driving you home. If you think I’d risk you getting hurt, you’re mental.”

 

Buffy finally sighed. “Okay. You can drive me home.”

 

Spike’s phone rang, and he answered it, impatient with the interruption. “Yeah.” He frowned when he heard the voice on the other end. “She’s here.” There was a longer pause, and then his eyes went cold, colder than Buffy had ever seen them. “We’ll wait for you.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Your Watcher is on his way over,” Spike said quietly. “Says he knows what’s going on.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “It’s more than that,” she stated. “You know what it is.”

 

“I can guess,” was all Spike would say. He had grown silent and remote, and Buffy couldn’t understand it.

 

For Spike, the pieces had finally fallen into place. Giles had wanted him to go out looking for Buffy. The Watcher had called Joyce to be sure she’d arrived home safely, and when she wasn’t there, he had grown worried.

 

Much more anxious than he probably should have been if Buffy was simply fighting off a touch of the flu.

 

Giles’ insistence that he come over immediately, the thread of guilt that Spike could hear in his tone, and—perhaps most telling of all—the fact that the Watcher had asked him not to come to Buffy’s training this last week.

 

Spike had the feeling that Giles knew exactly what was behind Buffy’s loss of strength, and there was a good possibility that he had something to do with it. Spike wasn’t going to voice his suspicions, for fear of upsetting Buffy needlessly if he was wrong.

 

Buffy was searching his face for some kind of sign, and Spike met her eyes. “I can’t say for sure, pet. We’ll just have to wait for Rupert.”

 

They didn’t have to wait long. Giles was knocking on the door less than ten minutes later, and as soon as he entered the house, Spike knew his suspicions had been correct. He’d been around long enough to know guilt when he smelled it. His talent for sniffing out that sort of thing had served him well over the years, and he was amazingly accurate.

 

Spike wished he wasn’t this time.

 

Giles was quiet as he came into the living room. Buffy watched him, and Spike could see the fear on her face. “Do you know what’s wrong with me?” she asked. “Can we fix it, Giles?”

 

Giles put a leather satchel on the couch, opening it and pulling out a syringe and a small bottle. “It’s—it’s an organic mixture of muscle relaxants and adrenal suppressors.”

 

Spike felt Buffy’s shock. “What?”

 

“The effect is temporary,” Giles assured her. “You’ll be yourself again in a few days.”

 

“You?” She turned to look at Spike. “Did—” When he shook his head, Buffy looked at Giles again. “Why?”

 

Giles swallowed hard. “It’s a test, Buffy, given to the Slayer when—if she reaches her, um, her eighteenth birthday. She is disabled, and then trapped in a house with a vampire. To pass the test she must kill it.”

 

 “You bastard,” Buffy spat. “You saw what this was doing to me!”

 

Giles wouldn’t quite meet her eyes. “In matters of tradition and protocol, I must answer to the Council, Buffy. My role was quite specific. I was to disable you and lead you to the old boarding house on Prescott Lane. I wanted to tell you, but—”

 

“Liar!”

 

The single word struck him like a blow. Giles flinched. “The vampire has escaped and killed at least one of the Watchers that was there,” he continued, forging on. “Now that I’ve told you, the test is invalidated. You’ll be safe, I promise.”

 

“How will I be safe?” Buffy demanded angrily. “You stuck a needle in me! I could have been killed before I even got to this stupid test.”

 

Giles reached out to comfort her. “Buffy—”

 

“If you touch me, I’ll kill you!” she spat, backing up right into Spike’s chest.

 

Spike brought his hands down on her shoulders. “Easy, luv,” he murmured. “We’ll sort this.” His blue eyes were cold when he looked at Giles, and the Watcher knew he hadn’t been far wrong when he worried about Spike killing him. “What do you know about this vampire?”

 

“His name is Zachary Kralik,” Giles said. “When he was alive, he tortured and murdered more than a dozen women before he was put away in an asylum for the criminally insane. While a vampire…” He trailed off, realizing that further detail was unnecessary.

 

Spike’s face was set in a grim expression. “Right, then. Buffy, I want you to stay here.”

 

She turned to look at him, searching his face for any sign of pity—anything that would suggest he believed her incapable of handling matters. Maybe she couldn’t handle Kralik in her current condition, but Buffy hated to think that Spike thought of her as weak.

 

As if reading his mind, Spike lifted a scarred eyebrow and cocked his head. “You _are_ recalling my job description, aren’t you? Doesn’t make any sense for you to risk yourself when we’re going to need you for a bigger battle up ahead.” He looked from Buffy to Giles, his voice growing sharp. “You should have remembered that, Rupert, even if your bloody Council couldn’t. What kind of help is a dead Slayer going to be?”

 

“I had a duty,” Giles replied, but it was a weak excuse and he knew it.

 

“Bugger duty,” Spike shot back rudely. “Sometimes you have to ask the questions. Duty and tradition are worth sod-all if they aren’t what’s right.” He muttered a few more imprecations under his breath, striding off to a chest sitting in a corner of the living room.

 

Buffy watched as Spike shoved a few extra stakes into various pockets and grabbed a crossbow, tossing it to Giles. “Let’s go, Rupert. You’ve got a mess to clean up.”

 

She was a little surprised when Spike left without a backwards glance. Giles stayed still for a moment, appearing to want to say something, but unable to find the words that would heal the breach that had been created between them. In another moment, Giles was gone as well, leaving Buffy alone, waiting for someone else to take care of the problem.

 

It wasn’t a role she was accustomed to playing. She wanted to be out taking care of this vampire herself. Buffy wanted to maintain the illusion, if not the reality, of strength. The idea that she suddenly wasn’t capable of doing what she had been chosen to do was uncomfortable, to say the least.

 

That was why she was so angry with Giles. More than anything else, it was the fact that he had stripped her of her identity, of her power. It felt like a violation. Buffy was the Slayer, and now she wasn’t.

 

Why on earth had she ever thought she wanted to be normal? One day as normal, and she couldn’t wait to go back to being the Slayer.

 

Sitting around in Spike’s—admittedly—comfortable townhouse wasn’t doing her any good. Buffy wanted to be out solving her problem. As much as she appreciated Spike’s help, and she did, she still wanted to be the one in charge.

 

She didn’t like being taken care of. That was also a new revelation.

 

After half an hour, Buffy decided she couldn’t wait any longer. She _was_ the Slayer. Spike had been right about that. It was her job to make sure that Kralik couldn’t kill anyone else, her responsibility to see to it that more innocents didn’t suffer on her account. Maybe the Council had brought Kralik here, but in the end, she would be the reason that people died.

 

Unless she did something about it.

 

Buffy rummaged around in the same chest that Spike had gone through. It would have to be a stake, or something else that didn’t require a lot of accuracy at a distance. She’d proven earlier with the throwing knives that she couldn’t hit squat with the drug in her system.

 

The holy water and cross were also possibilities, but Buffy wasn’t going to hold her breath. She would have to be sneaky, that was for certain. If she allowed him to get close, he would be able to kill her without breaking a sweat.

 

If vampires did sweat. Buffy decided she’d have to ask Spike about that when it was all over.

 

Buffy decided that she’d start at that old boarding house on Prescott Lane. Giles had mentioned that the Council had been keeping Kralik there, and it was a possibility that he would return.

 

After that, she’d just have to try and pick up his trail.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles was finding the silence in Spike’s car most uncomfortable. Spike’s face was set in an implacable expression, enforcing a distance that hadn’t existed until now. He finally couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Spike—”

 

“Don’t. You betrayed her.”

 

The Watcher swallowed hard. Spike’s words brought the truth into sharp focus. His guilt threatened to eat him alive. “I had no choice.”

 

“We always have a choice.” Spike glanced over at him, his blue eyes flashing. “You were the person Buffy trusted the most, and you betrayed her.”

 

“I answer to the Council!” Giles shot back, stung into taking the defensive. “I am not some rogue agent as you are.”

 

Spike smiled grimly. “There’s definitely something to be said for being a rogue agent.”

 

Giles blanched, realizing that he was hardly helping his case. “Can you find this Kralik?”

 

“This isn’t that big of a town, Rupert. I think I can manage.” Spike’s face grew even harder, his expression forbidding. “From what you’ve said, he’ll try to find a nice warm body, and then he’ll probably take it back to his lair to play with. If we don’t run across him in another hour or so, we’ll head back to the boarding house.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy wondered if she was being unreasonable about this. The old boarding house loomed up in front of her, a forbidding structure she wouldn’t have given another thought to entering a week ago. Now, its appearance was enough to make her think twice.

 

Of course, that still wasn’t going to stop her.

 

Buffy took a tighter grip on her stake and slipped in the front door, trying to make as little noise as possible. The old floorboards creaked slightly under her weight, and she froze, listening for any sounds that might tell her that there was someone inside with her.

 

It was silent. Funny how that didn’t make her feel any better.

 

She crept forward, keeping on the alert, her senses stretched out to the full. In spite of her efforts, the vampire seemed to come from out of nowhere. Buffy hit the floor, her stake flying out of nerveless fingers. The air rushed out of her lungs, and she reached for her weapon.

 

The vampire’s hands were on her throat now, and he was squeezing. Buffy knew that she had to do something fast, so she gave up on the stake and reached for the cross in her pocket instead. She managed to shove the cross into his face, forcing him to loosen his grip. Once she had a little more room to wriggle, Buffy reached for another stake she’d hidden on a different part of her body. With a grunt of effort, Buffy shoved the stake through his heart, feeling the dust drift down around her.

 

Gasping and choking from the dust she’d gotten in her mouth, Buffy forced herself to her knees, then managed to stagger to her feet. She might have paused to savor her hard-won victory, but a voice cut through the silence of the house. “You came.”

 

It came from behind, and Buffy whirled, nearly losing her balance in the process. The vampire grinned at her toothily. “You must be the Slayer,” Kralik said. “I was told to expect you.”

 

“I hate to disappoint,” Buffy replied, knowing that it was a weak quip but unable to come up with anything else.

 

Kralik smiled pleasantly, his fangs showing. “I’m really looking forward to this, you know. I think your first meal should be your mother. You do have a mother don’t you?”

 

“Not someone you’re ever going to see,” she hissed, backing up. Buffy needed to regroup, to figure out how she was going to deal with him.

 

“That’s not very nice. I plan on getting to know you really well.” Kralik took a step forward. “Don’t you introduce all your friends to your mother?”

 

Buffy decided to take a chance and make a break for it. She ran for the stairs, letting out a very un-Slayer-like shriek when she felt him grab her. Kicking back, Buffy hit him in the face, scrambling up the stairs on all fours.

 

She was still trying to find a place to hide when she heard an inhuman sound. Whatever had happened, Kralik sounded like he was in pain, and Buffy didn’t care.

 

Dashing from room to room, the Slayer looked for anything she could use, preferably to make a booby trap that would incapacitate Kralik for the few moments she would need to kill him. Her mind was racing too fast to form a coherent thought.

 

This was definitely a stupid idea. She could have stayed safe at Spike’s place. She could have let him take care of Kralik; Buffy knew he would have. He’d have managed it. If there was anyone she could trust, it was Spike.

 

Buffy was here now, though, and so she had to see it through.

 

She heard another howl. There had to be something she could do.

 

An idea occurred to her, and Buffy headed for the closet in the nearest room. As she had hoped, the clothes rod in the closet was wooden, and she pulled it out easily. The fittings were old and loose, which meant even with normal strength, Buffy could manage.

 

Buffy couldn’t do anything about sharpening one of the ends, however. She would just have to hope that she could work up enough momentum to force the wood through Kralik’s heart.

 

Too bad there wasn’t enough time for that.

 

Buffy whirled, holding out the rod in front of her like a pike. “Where is my medicine?” Kralik demanded.

 

She stood frozen, unsure of whether she should try to rush him or wait for the vampire to come to her. Buffy didn’t have to wait long. Kralik took another couple steps into the room, his face contorted in pain. “Where are my pills? What have you done with them?”

 

Suddenly he was hurtling towards her, and Buffy didn’t have time to do anything except hold the rod out in front of her, watching in disbelief as Kralik impaled himself.

 

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

 

Spike stood in the doorway, and Buffy realized that he had pushed the other vampire towards her. If Kralik had been controlling his own motion, he never would have staked himself. “Spike.”

 

“Well?” he demanded again. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put?”

 

Buffy conveniently forgot that she’d been thinking the very same thing just a few moments ago. “You don’t have any right to give me orders, Spike! I’m the Slayer, and this was my responsibility.”

 

“And mine is keeping you alive!” Spike snapped. “How the hell do you expect me to do that when you’re running straight into danger?”

 

She set her chin stubbornly. “I told you. This is my job, and I don’t need you to do it for me. If you can’t handle that, then maybe you should just leave.”

 

Anger and relief had always caused Spike’s mouth to disconnect from his brain. “Maybe I should.”

 

With that, Spike whirled, stalking out of the room and leaving Giles behind in the hallway. Buffy met her Watcher’s eyes. He moved towards her slowly, reaching out to brush her hair out of the cut on her forehead that the first vampire had caused when he tackled her. “We should get that cleaned up.”

 

Buffy stared at him. She didn’t trust him, not now. At the same time, however, Giles hadn’t been obligated to tell her. He could have stuck to the Council’s mandate, and he didn’t have to go after Kralik.

 

That counted for something.

 

“Okay,” she replied, too numb to do anything else.

 

Buffy would think about Spike’s words tomorrow.


	23. Chapter 23

**“How like a winter hath my absence been/From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!/ What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!/What old December’s barrenness everywhere!...For summer’s pleasures wait on thee,/And, thou away, the very birds are mute…” ~William Shakespeare, Sonnet 97**

 

Giles couldn’t say he was all that surprised when Joyce came knocking on his door. In fact, he was more surprised that it had taken her so long to come. It had been four days since the Cruciamentum, four days since he’d been fired from the Council.

 

Four days since he’d spoken to her at all.

 

He had prepared himself for this. “Come in.”

 

Joyce remained silent as she entered his apartment, looking around at the darkened interior. Giles appeared to have had more than a few sleepless nights, and she couldn’t profess to be sorry about that. She wasn’t particularly happy with him right now.

 

Of course, Joyce had tried to burn her daughter at the stake not too long ago, so she wasn’t inclined to throw stones either.

 

“Would you like some tea?”

 

“Sure.” Joyce watched as he went into the kitchen, carefully avoiding meeting her eyes. “How have you been?”

 

Giles chuckled bitterly. “About as you would expect.” He paused. “I’m so very sorry.”

 

“I know you are.” Joyce sat down, her tone almost conversational. “Buffy told me you’d been fired from the Council.”

 

He sighed. “I was. I will retain my position with the library, of course, so I’m not out of work at least.”

 

“Buffy also told me that you didn’t have a choice.”

 

“Spike would disagree with that.”

 

“Spike would probably be right,” Joyce replied. “I know you don’t want to see Buffy hurt, though, so I can only assume that you felt you were acting in her best interests.”

 

Giles only wished that was the case. “No, I wasn’t.” He felt the need to be completely honest, even though he would rather have avoided it. “I obeyed the order from the Council because this is the way things have been done for centuries. There’s really no other reason than that. Had I truly considered the cost of my actions, I would have refused outright.”

 

Joyce leaned back. “You don’t regret being fired?”

 

“Of course I regret being fired,” Giles said irritably. “I regret that the Council is populated with useless gits who seem to know nothing about what being a Slayer—or being a Watcher—really means.”

 

She nodded, satisfied. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 

Giles set the tea tray down hard on the table, the warm affection in her tone startling him enough to cause him to nearly lose control of it. “What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that just because you made one stupid decision, I’m not going to give up on one of the best things to happen to me in years.” Joyce grew serious again. “But if you ever pull something like this again…”

 

She left the rest of the threat unspoken, but Giles really didn’t need her to finish it. The look of betrayal on Buffy’s face had been enough to discourage any similar actions in the future. The guilt was still nearly overwhelming. “I understand.”

 

Joyce smiled. “Good. As long as we understand each other.”

 

The expression on her face left no doubt in Giles’ mind that crossing her would be a very bad idea. Joyce could be very scary when she wanted to be.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander wandered into the Bronze feeling aimless. Everyone had somewhere to be tonight, or someone to be with. Willow was with Oz, Faith and Buffy were out patrolling, and he was feeling rather useless.

 

They all had their place within the group, except for him.

 

He paused, catching sight of a familiar bleach-blond head through the crows. Maybe he wasn’t the only one without somewhere to be.

 

Without thinking about why, Xander made his way through the mass of bodies to join Spike at the bar. “What’s up?” Spike held up his beer bottle in a silent response. “So how come you aren’t out with the Slayers?”

 

“They don’t need me tonight,” Spike responded. If Xander didn’t know better, he would have said that Spike was depressed. “I’m just the hired muscle, after all.”

 

Xander blinked. “What? No, you’re part of the team, Spike.” He sat down next to him. “And trust me, I never thought I’d be saying that about a member of the undead.”

 

Spike shrugged, visibly trying to shake off his bad mood. “So what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out with the girls?”

 

“What girls?” Xander asked. “Buffy basically told me I’d be in the way, and Willow definitely doesn’t need me around her and Oz.” He hesitated, finally blurting out, “I’m sorry about the spell. You know, the hand and the pants, and I am really sorry.”

 

Up to that point, Spike had assumed that Xander wanted to forget about the spell and its effects as much as he did. Spike wanted nothing more than to forget the whole mess. “Forget it.”

 

Xander, sensing his sincerity, breathed a sigh of relief. “Already done.”

 

They sat in a silence that wasn’t completely comfortable. Of course, it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable either. “You want to play a round of pool?”

 

Xander glanced over in surprise and then nodded, relieved to finally have _something_ to do, even if it was playing pool with the undead.

 

Although, Xander thought he might actually end up liking Spike. He really wasn’t so bad for a vampire.

 

Spike allowed the boy to break. When his turn came up almost immediately, he quickly sank three in a row before deliberately missing a shot. Beating Xander at pool was a lot like taking candy from a baby. He might as well make it worth his time.

 

“So what’s up between you and Buffy?” Xander finally asked.

 

Spike frowned. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“You guys were almost inseparable,” he pointed out. “And you haven’t been around the last few days.”

 

“Slayer doesn’t need me right now,” Spike muttered. “I’m still around.” He leaned back against one of the supports, watching as Xander took his shot. “What are you doing here by yourself?”

 

Xander flushed. “If you haven’t noticed, Cordelia still hates me, which means I have nowhere better to be tonight.” He straightened, fidgeting with his pool cue. “How do you do it?”

 

“How do I do what?” Spike asked impatiently.

 

“It’s just that everyone has something,” Xander explained. He had no idea why he was telling Spike this, other than the fact that the both of them were at the Bronze alone. “Buffy and Faith are both Slayers, Giles has all that knowledge, Willow’s got her magic. Everyone has something except for me.”

 

Spike shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. He knew what it was like to feel as though you had nothing to offer the rest of the world. Those weren’t memories he particularly cherished. Of course, Spike couldn’t say he cherished many memories at all.

 

“You make the best of what you have. Not much more you can do.”

 

“But—”

 

Spike interrupted him impatiently. “Look, you’ve got guts, Harris. Not many people would go out night after night like you do, trying to help. So take what you’ve got and be happy with it.”

 

Xander appeared unhappy that there was nothing more to it than that. “Isn’t there anything I can do to be…”

 

“What? Cool?” Spike rolled his eyes. “It’s all about figuring out who you are and what you want, mate. You figure that out, and everyone else will fall into step as well.”

 

Xander shook his head. “That’s easier said than done.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Spike muttered, too low for the boy to hear. It was always easier said than done.

 

~~~~~

 

The truth was that Spike hadn’t seen much of Buffy since her birthday. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, it was that he refused to go to her. Spike wanted the Slayer to come to him.

 

He’d told her to stay put. Spike had wanted to make sure she was okay—and she took his help and threw it back in his teeth. Buffy had been very clear about not needing him. He was equally certain that she did need him, but he suspected that she would be happy to never see him again.

 

Well, Spike wasn’t having any of that. He’d had enough of being Love’s Bitch with Cecily and Drusilla. He would make sure Buffy lived through the apocalypse, but other than that he had no interest in the Slayer.

 

But if that were true, then why did his heart ache so badly?

 

Spike was just a little drunk when he unlocked his door. It wasn’t like he was trying to drown his sorrows—it was more that he needed the distance that the numbness of intoxication brought.

 

Distance from his current situation, distance from his memories, it was all the same.

 

“You don’t look real steady on your feet,” Faith said, coming up behind him.

 

Spike tried to turn quickly to face her, but his balance was just a little bit off. “Bugger off.”

 

“I would except that I’m sleeping here,” Faith replied, following him into the kitchen. She and Buffy had managed to get in quite a few kills, and she was feeling hungry and horny.

 

Faith knew exactly why Spike had been drinking. It was probably for the same reason that Buffy had been bitching on patrol. The other Slayer had gone on and on about how bossy and demanding Spike could be, about how he hadn’t come around, about how he was never around when you needed him and how he stuck his nose in where he wasn’t wanted.

 

Even Faith could see the contradiction in that complaint.

 

Of course, Buffy’s loss could definitely end up being her gain.

 

She kept an eye on him while peering into the fridge. “So what’s your problem?”

 

“None of your business,” was Spike’s rather surly answer.

 

Faith gave up on the fridge and started going through the cupboard. She could have sworn she had a package of microwave popcorn somewhere. “Maybe you’ll feel better if you get it off your chest.”

 

Spike snorted. “No thanks. I’m not in a sharing mood.”

 

Faith bit back a sigh as she realized that she’d eaten the last bag the other night. Good thing there were other hungers she could satisfy. “Maybe you could try something else then.”

 

“What’s that?” Spike asked.

 

She’d always found that the direct approach worked for her. Faith straddled his lap before he realized what she was doing. “Maybe I can take your mind off of things.” Her lips came down on his immediately. Faith figured that if she didn’t give him a chance to think about it—just to react—they might both get lucky.

 

It had been a long time. Too long, in fact. Spike couldn’t help his immediate reaction, which was to deepen the kiss and pull the Slayer closer. Faith was grinding against him, and his jeans were getting uncomfortable.

 

The heady feeling of warmth, of being touched for the first time in a long time, of having a warm, willing girl in his arms—it went straight to Spike’s head. Mix that with the alcohol, and it made sense that it would take a while for sense to penetrate.

 

Spike managed to push Faith off of him, stumbling to his own feet, just before they reached the point of no return. “We can’t do this.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Faith was pissed as hell that Spike had called a stop to things. “That was good. You can’t tell me you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

 

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “Not the point,” he responded. “I told you I wasn’t going to do this with you.”

 

“Is this about Buffy?” Faith demanded. “She totally ditched you!”

 

Spike growled, knowing that this situation was partly his fault. He’d invited Faith to live at his place thinking he could keep things platonic, even knowing that she would most likely make a move. He should have pushed her away immediately, rather than letting it get as far as he had.

 

They were both keyed up now, and Faith wasn’t going to come back down anytime soon. “It’s not about Buffy,” he insisted.

 

“Yeah, well, that’s not how it looks like to me,” Faith hissed. “So Buffy gets you too, huh?”

 

“I never made any secret about the reason I came to Sunnydale!” Spike responded, his voice growing louder. “I was hired for a purpose.”

 

“And that’s all you are,” she replied. “Just the hired muscle. You think you found a place here? You’re expendable. You’re the vampire mercenary. They’ll get rid of you in a heartbeat if that’s what it takes.”

 

It took every ounce of Spike’s hard-won control to keep from attacking her—and to keep from showing his hurt. Faith was hitting every raw nerve he had. Instead of snapping her neck like he wanted, Spike turned and stalked down the hall to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

 

Once inside, he took several deep, unneeded breaths, knowing that he needed to calm down. Spike could hear some shuffling and then the slamming of the front door. He had a feeling that Faith had left, and it was unlikely that she’d be coming back.

 

“Good going, mate,” he muttered, suddenly angry with himself. “You’ve really bollixed up this situation.”

 

It was too close to dawn to go hunting. Spike wanted to do some damage, and it just wasn’t possible, not unless he wanted to destroy his own place.

 

He was better than that.

 

Spike would take a cold shower and try to sleep. It was too much to hope for that the lingering alcohol in his system would have a soporific effect. He was pretty much sober at this point, more was the pity.

 

Although, he did have a bottle of Jack in the cupboard.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles had been very firm in his instructions. Buffy was to go over to Spike’s house, inform him that they needed his help, and drag him back over to the school if necessary. “This is a serious matter, Buffy. If we do not have Spike’s help, there’s every possibility that we will not be able to stop this apocalypse.”

 

As she stood in front of Spike’s door, Buffy thought that she probably should have made Giles go. He was still feeling guilty enough over the Cruciamentum for blackmail to work.

 

It was mostly her own sense of guilt that made her want to avoid Spike. Buffy knew she’d been pretty harsh with him. Spike had been doing his job, and she had lashed out because of her own pain. It had been Giles and the Council she was angry at, not him.

 

Of course, that didn’t mean she wanted to apologize.

 

Buffy finally took a deep breath and knocked on his door. She waited, frowning when she realized that no one was going to answer. Pounding a little harder, Buffy wondered if something had happened to him. It had been a few days since she’d seen him. What if someone had come after him?

 

What if he was dust?

 

She was about ready to start pounding for a third time, a little more frantically, when the door swung open to reveal a bleary-eyed Spike. “What do you want?”

 

“I came to see you,” Buffy replied, her eyes narrowing. “Are you drunk?”

 

He shrugged. “I was. Think I’m sober now, though.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Where’s Faith?”

 

“How the bloody hell should I know?” Spike demanded. “She left last night. Doubt she’ll be back anytime soon.” He hadn’t moved out of the doorway, standing just far enough back to avoid the late afternoon sun. “So what do you want? More heavy lifting?”

 

“There’s an apocalypse coming,” Buffy replied, unsure of herself. She had never seen Spike this hostile before. Angry, yes. Sarcastic, of course. But she was getting the sense that he would have just as soon never seen her again.

 

After his gift, she found that strange.

 

Spike stared at her and then sighed. “Fine. I’ll be at the library tonight.”

 

He would have shut the door in her face, but Buffy was faster. She got her foot in the doorway, preventing him from closing it. “What is up with you?”

 

“It’s none of your bloody business,” he snarled. “So sod off.”

 

Anger reared its ugly head. Buffy shoved the door in, causing Spike to stumble backwards. “What the hell is your problem?”

 

“Bugger off, Summers!” Spike shouted. “You’re not wanted here.”

 

Buffy pushed him back into the living room, although not hard enough to hurt him. She did, however, want him cornered. “Is this about the other night? Because I’m sorry, Spike. I said some things I didn’t mean.”

 

“Don’t give me that,” Spike shot back. “Don’t you dare throw me a bone like I’m some stray dog. You think I’m here for you? Well, I’ve got a nice, fat bank account and a fast car in the garage that proves otherwise. Soon as the apocalypse is over, I’m out of here! I’m not Love’s Bitch any longer.”

 

It was that last, seemingly unrelated, comment that clued Buffy in to what this was all really about. Her own words echoed in her head—she’d told Spike she didn’t need him after he’d promised to be there for her. Really, it was no wonder he was so royally pissed off.

 

“Okay, I’m only going to say this once, and so you’ll just have to listen up,” Buffy said, pushing him back on the couch so that she was standing over him. “I’m sorry for what I said. It wasn’t nice, and I didn’t mean it, and I do need you. And not just for backup. So if you’ll pull your head out of your ass, maybe you’ll actually hear what I’m saying.”

 

Spike didn’t want to. He didn’t want to listen to Buffy’s apology. He really, really wanted to stay angry. It was easier to not hurt when you were angry. “Fine,” he replied sullenly.

 

Buffy was mad enough to spit. She thought about popping him in the nose, but didn’t think that would do much good under the circumstances. “Fine. Go shower, and then we’ll head back to the school. The sun should be down by then.”

 

She stepped away to allow Spike to rise and then abruptly changed her mind. “You know what? Forget it.” Buffy grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “You are the most infuriating—guy!”

 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch,” Spike snarked back.

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “You—you—jerk!”

 

And then, of course, she kissed him.


	24. Chapter 24

**“ _Come with me_ , I said, and no one knew/where, or how my pain throbbed,/no carnations or bacaroles for me,/only a wound that love had opened…That is why, when I heard your voice repeat/ _Come with me_ , it was as if you had let loose/the grief, the love, the fury of a cork-trapped wine/that geysers flooding from deep in its vault:/in my mouth I felt the taste of fire again,/of blood and carnations, of rock and scald.” ~Pablo Neruda, Sonnet VII**

 

Buffy had never been so uncomfortable in her entire life. She still wasn’t sure what she’d been thinking. Buffy had managed to stutter out an apology right before Spike turned and practically ran out of the room.

 

She’d kissed him. _She_ had kissed _Spike_. And she’d enjoyed it.

 

Spike’s reaction was less than encouraging, however, and Buffy got the vibe that Spike didn’t really _like_ her, at least not right now. That left her waiting for him in his living room, having made a complete and utter fool out of herself.

 

Buffy had never wanted the floor to open up and swallow her more than at that moment.

 

“Maybe I’ll get lucky,” she muttered. “Maybe this apocalypse will actually end the world.”

 

“What’s that, pet?”

 

Spike’s voice came from right behind her, causing Buffy to jump and emit a muffled shriek. “Don’t do that!”

 

Her scare broke the ice like nothing else would have. “Do what?”

 

“Sneak up on me!” Buffy glared on him, suddenly back on solid ground. “Warn a person next time.”

 

“I thought you were the Slayer,” Spike teased. The banter was as comfortable to slip into as his old boots. “You should know when a vampire’s behind you.”

 

“I think we’ve had this conversation,” Buffy shot back. “I knew you were close, I just didn’t…” She trailed off, staring at him. “Look, I—”

 

“Forget it.”

 

Hurt flashed across her face. “If that’s what you want.”

 

“Isn’t that what you were going to say?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy glared at him, angry again. “How would you know? You didn’t let me finish!”

 

“Then finish.”

 

“Fine. Forget it.” Buffy stomped out of the house. She’d been up and down so many times during the last half hour her head was spinning. Obviously, there was no dealing with Spike right now. Or ever.

 

In fact, never sounded like a really good option.

 

“Buffy!”

 

She picked up the pace, knowing that Spike would have to follow her back to the library, but she thought if she walked fast enough, they wouldn’t be able to have a conversation. “Summers!” Spike grabbed her arm and physically pulled her to a stop. “We could drive over there, you know, since you’re in such a hurry.”

 

Buffy narrowed her eyes. Apparently, Spike had no clue why she was practically running. “Whatever.”

 

They turned to go back to his house to get the car, but Spike stopped, standing perfectly still in the middle of the sidewalk. “What was that?”

 

“What was what?”

 

“You know what.”

 

“Pretend I’m stupid and spell it out for me.” Buffy crossed her arms in front of her chest and waited.

 

“The kiss,” Spike finally said. “Tell me what that was about.” When she was silent, he added, “Tell me it wasn’t nothing.”

 

Buffy went still. “What are you saying?”

 

“No, I told you,” Spike shot back. “I went out on a limb. It’s your turn, Slayer.”

 

“It wasn’t nothing.”

 

The whole world could have stopped spinning right then and neither would have noticed. They were at a standstill, since no one was ready to take the first step. “Then what was it?” Spike asked.

 

It cost him something to utter those words. It felt like he had re-opened a wound that had closed up but had never healed.

 

This whole exercise in futility was costing Spike more than he’d ever thought to pay again. Spike had sworn that he was done with this sort of thing, done with love and the way it messed with his head. Done being Love’s Bitch.

 

Well, he _was_ done with that part, but it seemed that he was born to love.

 

Spike was just scared to death that he’d been born to love the wrong woman.

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy confessed, and then she watched as Spike’s face hardened and he slipped behind his mask once more. “It was good.”

 

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “It was that.”

 

There was another long pause. “I think I like you.”

 

Spike felt like a boy again, only this was better. At least this time he could be fairly sure that the girl didn’t think he was beneath her. “Same goes for me.”

 

“Okay,” Buffy said, breathing a sigh of relief. Spike apparently didn’t find her completely repulsive. “So…okay. What now?”

 

Spike swallowed. “Apocalypse?”

 

“Yeah, that.” Buffy started to smile, but it just as quickly faded. “That’s all you have to stay for, isn’t it?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Dunno. How many apocalypses have you had around here?”

 

Buffy paused to think about it. “Three, I guess. Why?”

 

“Then maybe this isn’t the big one,” Spike offered. “Whistler told me I was supposed to keep you alive for the big ending of the world, but maybe this isn’t the one he meant. There could be another one coming.”

 

Buffy winced slightly. “There could be.”

 

“So maybe it’s a good idea that I stick around for a while after, just to make sure this is it.”

 

“And if this is it?”

 

Spike hesitated before answering, wondering what he was getting himself into. “You can never be too sure about that sort of thing, can you?”

 

~~~~~

 

Willow knew something was going on. First Buffy and Spike were getting really friendly, then they were fighting, and now they were acting like—

 

Well, like a couple of teenagers who liked each other and knew they liked each other and were trying not to let on to it. Of course, as Buffy’s best friend, Willow had the ability to read minds occasionally, and Buffy wasn’t that hard to read.

 

Now that she’d gotten to know him, neither was Spike, for that matter.

 

Giles was going over how they were going to stop the apocalypse, but Willow had both heard and understood the first time. She was feeling a little forlorn since Oz had band practice and wouldn’t be able to make it to the apocalypse anyway. The night before the full moon was the next day, and so there was no way he’d be able to help.

 

While Giles explained to Spike how the Sisterhood of Jhe planned on opening up the Hellmouth, Willow leaned over to Buffy and whispered, “So what’s up with you and Spike?”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened for a split second before she donned her innocent face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“Yes, well, I’m talking about the end of the world, and unless you pay attention…” Giles trailed off, glaring at the two of them and looking back over at Spike. “So you will help?”

 

“No, I’m planning on letting you lot die horribly,” Spike replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

Giles glanced at Faith. “You’ll be around?”

 

“It’s part of the calling,” she replied airily.

 

Willow noticed that if Buffy and Spike had been acting like teenagers in love—or at least in like, Faith and Spike had been studiously ignoring one another. “Very well,” Giles said, breaking into Willow’s thoughts. “I think it’s best to get started.”

 

Faith stood abruptly. “You know I’m not good at that kind of thing. Give me a call when you need me.”

 

She walked out of the library, and Giles frowned, glancing at Spike. “Do you—”

 

“No idea what gets into that girl,” Spike replied, not allowing Giles to finish his question. “Let’s keep going, yeah?”

 

Giles seemed to take his disclaimer at face value, and they kept going, researching until the wee hours of the morning. Willow tried to corner Buffy before she left, but Spike offered to give them both a ride home, and he ended up dropping Willow off first.

 

Then, of course, they had to hunt down members of the Sisterhood of Jhe, and keep the Hellmouth from opening, and there really wasn’t time to talk about anything. What Willow did notice was Buffy’s reaction when the monster coming out of the Hellmouth nearly took Spike with it when they forced it back down.

 

Willow didn’t think she’d ever seen Buffy move that fast.

 

So it was the day after they managed to close the Hellmouth before Willow got a chance to talk to her. She basically invited herself over to Buffy’s house and cornered the Slayer in her bedroom. “What is going on, Buffy?”

 

Buffy tried to give Willow her innocent face again, but her innocent look was no match for Willow’s resolve face. “You absolutely have to swear not to tell anyone.”

 

Willow held up a hand in a Girl Scout salute. “I swear.”

 

“I kissed Spike.”

 

If Buffy was expecting Willow to be shocked, she was sorely disappointed. Willow broke out into a broad grin. “It’s about time! How was it?”

 

Buffy frowned. “You’re not mad?”

 

Willow rolled her eyes. “Buffy, you and Spike have been fighting for months now. There was all this UST floating around. It was obvious.”

 

“Obvious to you, maybe,” Buffy muttered. “What am I going to do, Willow?”

 

Willow frowned. “What do you mean? Aren’t you going to kiss him again?”

 

“No!” Buffy said immediately, then stopped. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”

 

Willow pursed her lips. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Do you want to kiss him again?”

 

“Yes.” There was a definite whine in the Slayer’s voice. “But he’s a vampire!”

 

Willow shrugged. “But Spike’s not Angel. You know he’s not going to lose his soul. He told you he got it anchored. So it’s no worse than you dating Angel before we knew he was going to lose his soul, and everybody pretty much dealt with that.”

 

It was a completely logical argument, but Buffy wasn’t quite ready for logic. She was still wallowing in doubt. “What if something happens and he does lose his soul?” Buffy asked. “And I don’t even know if he really likes me all that much. What if he doesn’t like me?”

 

Willow gave her a look that was designed to let her know just how stupid Buffy was being. “Uh, Buffy? I have eyes. Spike likes you.”

 

“What’s Giles going to say?” Buffy asked. “Or Xander? Or my mom?”

 

Her brow furrowing, Willow gave Buffy a hard look. “Buffy, are you really worried about what they’re going to think, or are you trying to find an excuse about why this thing between you and Spike won’t work?”

 

She knew she’d hit the nail on the head when Buffy winced. “I swore I was never going to fall for another vampire,” Buffy said softly. “I can’t—I can’t do this again. I mean, Spike and I are friends, and if something happened, it would be bad. If we take this to the next level, and the worst happened, I don’t think I could bear it.”

 

Willow put a gentle hand on her friend’s arm. “Buffy, I think maybe you’re already at the next level.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Are you sure about this?” Giles asked in between kisses.

 

Joyce gasped as his thumb brushed over a particularly sensitive spot. “Buffy’s out. We’ve got some time.”

 

“This may take more than ‘some time,’” he replied.

 

Joyce was sitting on the kitchen counter, her legs wrapped around Giles’ waist. She had been making tea for the two of them, and then Giles decided he didn’t want tea.

 

Joyce didn’t mind a bit.

 

Still, their trysts at her house were just a trifle dangerous. She remembered all too well how Buffy had discovered her relationship with Ted. Even if Giles wasn’t an evil robot, this definitely wasn’t how Buffy needed to find out.

 

Actually, Joyce was still kind of hoping that she could put it off until after Buffy went off to college.

 

“We can make it quick,” she said hopefully. “Quick is fine.” A sultry smile tilted up her lips. “I could come over to your place after I get off work tomorrow night.”

 

“Not a bad plan,” Giles agreed, beginning to unbutton her blouse.

 

Joyce’s next gasp sounded more surprised than happy, and he glanced up to see shock and embarrassment on her face. Giles spun around to see Spike standing in the doorway, looking completely mortified. “Oh, bloody hell,” both men said at the same time.

 

“Sorry,” Spike said, quickly beginning to back out the kitchen door. “I saw the lights, and—sorry.”

 

“No, wait, Spike,” Joyce said, quickly buttoning her blouse. “Don’t feel like you have to run off.”

 

Spike lifted an eyebrow, his expression sardonic. “Rather feel like I’m interrupting something a bit more important than a chat.”

 

“I thought you were out with Buffy,” Giles said, straightening his own clothing. He wasn’t happy about the interruption, but the mood had been effectively killed. From the look on Joyce’s face, Giles had thought that it was Buffy coming in for a moment. The idea of her walking in on the two of them—not exactly conducive to romance.

 

Spike gave a quick shake of his head. “No, she’s with Faith tonight.”

 

The truth was that ever since that kiss, he and Buffy hadn’t been particularly comfortable in one another’s company. Spike would have loved to revisit the conversation, but there was never a good time.

 

Besides, he was a bit worried about what was going to happen when Joyce and Giles found out. Spike hated to think that they’d end up disliking him.

 

Giles frowned. “You didn’t go with them?”

 

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “They didn’t need me.”

 

Joyce got down off the counter. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Spike shook his head. “No, I should go. I interrupted you, and—”

 

She stopped him by putting a hand on his arm, giving Giles a pointed look. “Rupert was just leaving.”

 

It was a blatant lie, but Giles decided to take the hint. Besides, he really had planned on taking a lot longer, and it was too risky to engage in those sorts of activities where Buffy could walk in at any moment. “I’ll see you soon, Spike.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Spike replied, obviously distracted.

 

Once the front door had shut behind Giles, Joyce showed Spike into the living room. “Now, what’s wrong?”

 

“I think I might have made a mistake,” Spike admitted in a low voice.

 

Joyce grew still at his somber tone. “What kind of a mistake?”

 

Slowly, Spike told her about what had transpired between him and Faith, and then, with a lot of false starts admitted, “Didn’t shove her off just because it didn’t seem right.”

 

“Is this about Buffy?” Joyce asked.

 

Spike gave her look that was half-grateful, half-nervous. “Look, Joyce, I haven’t done this in over a century. Never got a chance to properly court a girl, and I know Buffy’s young. Probably too young, but—”

 

“Oh, William,” Joyce sighed. “You’re in love with her.” He didn’t seem old to her; Spike never really had. He might be slightly more mature than her daughter, but in some ways Spike had always seemed very boyish.

 

Perhaps it was the vulnerability in his eyes.

 

Spike fiddled with a button on his jacket, his hand twitching towards his jacket pocket where his cigarettes were. “Dunno.”

 

“William.” This time it was just a little sharper, in the tone that she used to get Buffy to tell the truth. Not that it always worked.

 

“Yeah.” It was nearly a whisper. “Guess I am.”

 

Joyce nodded. She wasn’t going to kid herself. A vampire did not make for a good boyfriend, even if that vampire _was_ Spike. She was also very well aware that Buffy was only eighteen, and the guy she liked this week wasn’t necessarily going to be the guy she liked the next.

 

On the other hand, Joyce was very well aware that Spike’s feelings were probably of the more permanent variety.

 

She took a deep breath. “Well, if you’re waiting for me to be angry about it, you’ll be waiting for a long time.”

 

The relief that washed over Spike’s face was the only reassurance that Joyce really needed. Spike’s respect for her was obvious, and it was unlikely that he’d do anything to hurt Buffy, not when he wanted to stay in her good graces. “I’m not going to hurt her,” he said earnestly a moment later. “I wanted you to know that.”

 

Joyce noticed that Spike wasn’t offering to keep his distance, but that was only fair. Buffy was eighteen and the Slayer. She was capable of making her own decisions, no matter how badly Joyce wanted to protect her.

 

And if she had to choose, Joyce was just grateful that it was Spike and not Angel.

 

“I do know that.” Joyce leaned back into the couch. “What are you going to do about Faith?”

 

“Dunno,” Spike said. He shook his head. “I never—it was stupid of me. I thought I could help, but…”

 

“You did your best,” Joyce said. “That’s all anyone can ask for, sweetheart. Faith has to make her own choices.”

 

Spike was quiet for a long moment. “I’m a bit worried about those choices. Might not be very pretty.”

 

Joyce thought about the other Slayer, about the lostness of her, and couldn’t disagree. “Well, if she needs help, we’ll just have to be there.”

 

~~~~~

 

Faith had been acting strangely towards her all night. Buffy couldn’t figure out what the other Slayer’s problem was. Finally, she asked. “Okay, Faith. What’s the what?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Faith asked, shrugging the question off.

 

Buffy glared at the other girl. “You’ve been acting weird all night.”

 

“Have you slept with Spike?”

 

The question came out of the blue, surprising Buffy into answering immediately. “What? No!”

 

“So you don’t want to?” Faith asked.

 

It was not Buffy’s turn to be on the defensive. “No, of course not.” At Faith’s skeptical expression, she reiterated. “I don’t want to sleep with Spike.”

 

“Because he sure wants to jump your bones,” Faith said.

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “He told you that?”

 

“I can tell,” Faith said, her tone secretive. “Guy doesn’t even respond when another woman looks at him.” Her lips twisted into a smirk. “Looks like you got another vampire hot for you, B. I guess you don’t really need to slay ‘em anymore.”

 

Buffy nearly snarled. “How Spike feels isn’t my problem.”

 

“It’s gonna be,” Faith replied. “He’ll start panting at your heels, and then what are you gonna do when he goes bad, just like everyone else does? Want some advice? Screw him and leave him before he can do the same to you.”

 

Buffy took a step back, her face screwing up in distaste. “What is up with you?” Something clicked. “You—he turned you down, didn’t he?”

 

“What?” Faith scoffed. “More like I turned him down when he found out you weren’t going to be receptive.”

 

Buffy might have said more, but a leather-clad vampire came sailing out of the darkness at her. Not a minute later, they were surrounded. Typically, she and Faith indulged in the same kind of banter that she and Spike did while fighting, but tonight they fought silently.

 

The anger that lay between them lent their moves a force that wasn’t usually there. The vampires were better fighters than the typical bloodsuckers, and one was using a sword and dagger instead of fists and fangs. When the last one was dust, Buffy turned around, looking for the weapons she knew one of them had dropped. “Where’s the sword and dagger?”

 

“How should I know?” Faith asked, walking off into the night.

 

Buffy let her go, taking a deep breath. She needed to tell Giles about these vampires, and she needed to talk to Spike.

 

And not necessarily in that order.

 

~~~~~

 

“Interesting,” Mayor Wilkins commented as he looked at the weapons. “I haven’t seen weapons like these in a good long while.”

 

Trick put the sword and dagger down on the Mayor’s desk. “Are you expecting company?”

 

“From these folks?” the Mayor asked in surprise. “Heavens, no! I run a clean town here, Mr. Trick.” He shook his head. “Do you know where the owner is now?”

 

“Dust in the wind,” Trick replied. “Those Slayers handled it.”

 

The Mayor nodded slowly. “Those girls are always sticking their noses in where they don’t belong, you know? Of course, as long as they’re kept busy with this new group, that’s quite all right with me. The dedication is coming up, and I can’t afford to have any slip-ups right now.”

 

“Maybe we should postpone the dedication?” Allan, the deputy Mayor, suggested timidly.

 

Mayor Wilkins fixed him with a look that Trick had no problem interpreting. “I think the Mayor _hates_ that idea.”

 

The Mayor shrugged it off. “Keep me updated, Mr. Trick. This situation might work out to our advantage yet.” He paused in thought. “What about Spike? What is he up to these days?”

 

An emotion flashed across Trick’s face that might almost have been fear. “He’s sticking close to the Slayer. Mostly the blonde one.”

 

“Is that right?” Mayor Wilkins nodded. “Ah, the follies of youth. Well, let’s keep an eye on him as well. He’s proved to be a bit more durable than I predicted. I’ll need to start thinking about taking steps when the time comes.”

 

The Mayor smiled coldly. “And the time is certainly coming.”


	25. Chapter 25

**“Life! Austere arbiter of each man’s fate,/By whom he learns that Nature’s steadfast laws/Are as decrees immutable; O pause/Your even forward march! Not yet too late/Teach me the needed lesson, when to wait/Inactive as a ship when no wind draws/To stretch the loosened cordage. One implores/Thy clemency, whose wilfulness innate/Has gone uncurbed and roughshod while the years/Have lengthened into decades; now distressed/He knows no rule by which to move or stay,/And teased with restlessness and desperate fears/He dares not watch in silence thy wise way/Bringing about results none could have guessed.” ~Amy Lowell, “Before Dawn”**

Xander was dying to tell someone the story, but it couldn’t be just anyone. Willow wouldn’t understand. She was too caught up in her early application packets. Buffy was busy with Slayer stuff. Giles would just roll his eyes and tune him out.

Oz would probably listen, but Xander had a hard time reading the other boy. He wanted someone who would actually react to what he was saying.

He really wished there was someone he could talk to about the thing with Faith. That had just been weird.

That might have been why he felt some sense of relief when he saw Spike coming down the hallway. “Spike! What are you doing here? It’s early.”

Spike shrugged. “I was out last night and saw something that worried me a bit. Took the tunnels to get here.” The vampire suddenly grinned. “Sun isn’t so scary if you have a few tricks up your sleeve.”

“Well, if you’re looking for Buffy, I think she’s in the library. Last I heard, she was complaining to Giles about the new Watcher.”

Spike frowned. “There’s a new Watcher?”

“Yeah, Giles got fired over that test thing.” Xander fell into step next to Spike.

“Oh, right. Forgot about that.” Spike gave Xander an inquisitive look. “What’s up with you, mate? You look like you’ve got ants in your pants.”

Xander hesitated, and then he burst out, “I kept the school from getting blown up.”

“You what?”

The story wasn’t nearly as coherent as Xander wanted it to be, and he was worried that he sounded more like a spaz than a hero, but Spike simply nodded. “Said you had guts, didn’t I?” At Xander’s slightly disappointed expression, the vampire raised an eyebrow. “You were looking for something else?”

“Nothing’s changed,” Xander said. “Cordelia—”

“Do us all a favor and forget about her,” Spike said. “She’s going to be pissed off at you until the day she dies, and she’s going to try and make your life a living hell. Best if you ignore her as much as possible.”

Xander sighed. That was basically what both Buffy and Willow had been telling him, but he’d wanted another solution, something a little quicker. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So you’ve seen this new Watcher?”

Xander laughed. “He’s no Giles.”

Spike got to see how right Xander was for himself. The new Watcher had returned to the library in Xander’s absence. The vampire couldn’t help but be reminded of a certain stiff young man who had died over a century ago.

Of course, while he might be able to sympathize that didn’t mean he was going to make it easy on the prat. “What have we here?”

“New Watcher,” Buffy said, sitting at the table, her chin propped in her hand. She perked up. “Want to come amulet-hunting with me tonight?”

“And who is this?” Wesley demanded. “Does everyone know your identity, Miss Summers?”

“I’m hardly ‘everyone,’” Spike drawled, looking the other man up and down with apparent disdain. “Name’s William the Bloody, or Spike if you prefer.”

Wesley’s eyes widened. “But—but—you—” He turned to stare at Giles. “He’s not supposed to exist!”

Spike smirked, his face shifting as he grabbed Wesley by the lapels and pulled him in close. “I don’t, strictly speaking.” He grinned toothily, thinking that the younger Watcher looked as though he was about to wet himself. Spike pushed him back. “Can’t believe they’d send you to the Hellmouth.”

Wesley drew himself up importantly. “I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly qualified!”

Both Spike and Buffy burst out laughing at the same time. “Right,” Spike said slowly, his now-blue eyes sparkling with barely-contained laughter.

Wesley straightened his suitcoat, turning to Giles. “Do you mean to tell me that you have allowed a vampire to work with the Slayer?”

“Apparently the Powers That Be asked Spike to protect Buffy,” Giles replied mildly. His eyes met Spike’s, and they shared a moment’s understanding. “Really, Wesley, I had expected you to understand that sometimes one needs to improvise in the field.”

Wesley frowned, thrown off slightly by his total lack of fieldwork. “Oh, ah, yes. Improvisation and flexibility are key elements in the Slayer’s arsenal. Remember that, Buffy.”

“Whatever,” Buffy said, bored. She perked up a moment later as Willow came through the library doors. “Willow! Ready to teach me some chemistry?”

Willow’s eyes widened. She didn’t think she had ever seen Buffy this excited to study anything before. “Uh, sure?”

Wesley cleared his throat. “Buffy—”

“It’s not dark yet, and I have a chemistry test tomorrow,” Buffy said, interrupting him. “Why don’t you grill Spike for a while? Then we’ll both go to retrieve the amulet.”

She paused to give Spike an apologetic look then turned and dragged Willow out of the library. The vampire simply raised an eyebrow, daring the new Watcher to ask a question. Wesley stiffened. “You know, I have some more unpacking to do, if you’ll excuse me.” He scuttled out of the library, and Giles finally indulged in the laughter he’d been holding in.

“Oh, Spike,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do something like that all day.”

Spike shrugged. “It was fun, pulling that wanker’s chain.” He grinned. “You sure he isn’t evil? I could rip his throat out for you.”

Giles wished that offer wasn’t nearly as tempting as it was. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s not evil, just a prat.”

“If that means he’s a dork, I would heartily agree with that assessment,” Xander offered.

Giles, who normally found Xander rather annoying, now regarded him as a breath of fresh air in comparison. “Thank you, Xander.” He turned to Spike. “You’re here early. Is anything wrong?”

Spike took a seat at the table. “Could be. We’ve got a cult moving into town, and they’re not here for the sunshine.”

“The Eliminati?” Giles asked. “Yes, Buffy and Faith ran into them last night. Wesley seems to think they’re here for an amulet.”

Spike leaned back in his chair. “What amulet?”

Giles took a seat across from him. “Apparently it’s rumored that the demon they worshipped, Balthazar, had an amulet that gave him strength. Wesley is insisting that the demon is dead and that the Eliminati want the amulet for sentimental value.”

Spike stared at Giles for a moment before letting out a bark of incredulous laughter. “He’s not serious, is he?”

“Yes, I believe he was.” Giles frowned. “What makes you say that?”

Spike shook his head. “This is a vampire cult we’re talking about, right? Because they don’t put a lot of stock in ‘sentimental value.’”

“Yeah, vampires aren’t really with the touchy-feely, I’m thinking,” Xander threw in.

Giles considered that for a moment. “Wesley seemed to know what he was talking about.” The older man steepled his fingers in front of his face. “I knew his father, you know.”

“Was he a wanker, too?”

“Quite.” Giles shook his head. “I want you to go with Buffy tonight, Spike. Stick close to her. If the cult wants this amulet for something important, this might turn out to be more dangerous than we thought.”

~~~~~

More dangerous than expected was exactly what their evening turned out to be. The amulet was right where it was supposed to be, but the Eliminati arrived soon after they did. Two against six weren’t horrible odds, however, and they managed to kill four before the last two ran away.

“Where’s Faith?” Spike asked, leaning against the wall of the crypt. One of the vampires had managed to graze his side with his sword, and he was trying to get a good look at the laceration.

Buffy swatted his hands away and bent to take a look for herself. “This isn’t too deep,” she decided, then answered his question. “I don’t know. We kind of got into a fight last night.” Straightening, she asked, “What happened between the two of you, Spike?”

“Nothing,” he replied, his tone short. “It was nothing.”

“Did she come onto you?” Buffy asked. When he refused to answer, she pressed a little harder. “Did you turn her down because of me?”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Slayer,” Spike replied, disgruntled with her line of questioning.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “That so doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’s none of your sodding business.”

“Well, pardon me for being a little concerned here, Spike,” Buffy shot back. “You’re fighting with Faith, Faith is picking fights with me, and I’ve got an idiot for a new Watcher. I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what?”

“Doing this back and forth thing,” Buffy replied boldly. “Either we like each other or we don’t. We’re all in or we decide we’re not.” She stuck her chin out. “So what’s it going to be, because I would appreciate knowing you’ve got my back if I can’t trust anyone else.”

“You know I’ve got your back, Buffy,” Spike replied. He was quiet for a moment. “What happens if we’re all in?”

“Beats me,” Buffy admitted. “I just thought deciding that might make things easier on the two of us.”

Spike shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m in.”

“Okay. I’m in, too.”

There was a long pause, and then Spike observed, “That didn’t seem to help.”

“No, it really didn’t.”

“Maybe this will.” Spike bent his head, touching her lips with his. The kiss was chaste, tentative, and brief. He rested his forehead against hers.

Buffy sighed. “What happened between you and Faith, Spike?”

“About like you thought,” he confessed. “She said all you wanted me for was muscle.”

“I won’t deny that part of it is nice,” Buffy replied, “but that’s hardly all I want you for.”

They both caught the unintended double entendre and laughed shakily. Spike sighed, his hands moving of their own accord in a soothing pattern on her back. “This isn’t something I’ve done before, Summers.”

“We’ll move slowly then,” Buffy said. “Just—see where it takes us.”

“Right then,” Spike said. “You got it, luv.”

“Then maybe you could kiss me again,” Buffy said. “Because that’s the best part of the deal.”

~~~~~

“So then what?” Willow asked.

Buffy tried to hide a smile. “Then we went back to his place and I patched him up.”

Willow glared at her. “I want to know about the smoochies!”

“There were some.”

The resolve face came out again. “Details, Buffy!”

“They were nice?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Oh, we were hitting an easy nine by the time I left to go home,” Buffy admitted. “And that was just the beginning. I got the feeling Spike was holding back on me.”

Willow sighed. “You guys are perfect for each other.”

“I know.” Buffy’s expression went from blissful to concerned. “Which is what has me worried.”

“You’re not still concerned about Spike going evil on you?” Willow asked.

Buffy shook her head. “Not really. I’m just concerned about Faith. She got pretty nasty the other night about Spike. I think she’s jealous.”

Willow made a face. “I kinda can see that,” she replied. “I mean, she was living with Spike and he’s still into you. Plus, you got Giles for a Watcher and she gets Wesley.”

Buffy grimaced, slouching down on her bed. Willow had come over to give her a protection sachet, and then they had gotten to talking. Spike was supposed to be over later, and then they were going to meet up with Faith. Not that any of them were actually comfortable with that plan, but all three of them would probably be needed to take care of the Eliminati.

“Don’t forget that I have Wesley too,” Buffy reminded Willow. “And can I just mention how badly that sucks?”

Willow, who normally preferred to see the best in people, couldn’t disagree. Even she thought Wesley was pretty much useless. Still, she wanted to be positive. “Maybe the Council had a good reason for sending him here,” she suggested, even though she sounded rather doubtful.

Buffy made a face. “Does the Council ever have a good reason for doing anything?”

Willow couldn’t really disagree with her friend on that one. Any organization that would nearly kill Buffy and fire Giles didn’t operate on any kind of logic that she recognized. “Yeah, you’re right.”

A knock came on the door and Spike poked his head through. “Ready to go, pet?”

“I’m right behind you,” Buffy said. “Where are we meeting Faith?”

“At the Bronze,” Spike replied. “Seemed like a neutral enough location.”

“Sounds good.”

Spike looked at Willow, giving her a brief nod. “You alright there, Red?”

“Just peachy,” she said. “You guys be careful tonight.”

“As always,” Buffy said cheerfully, following Spike out the door.

Willow watched them go, realizing suddenly that Buffy had appeared to be happier than she’d been in a very long time. Willow sighed. Although she couldn’t begrudge her friend a chance at happiness, they hadn’t been able to spend nearly as much time together recently.

At least Willow did get most of Buffy’s company during the day.

~~~~~

It was with a certain amount of shyness that Spike reached for Buffy’s hand. The fact that she let him take it relaxed him slightly.

“So, the Bronze, huh?”

“Yeah, figured it was easiest,” Spike replied. “You don’t mind?”

“No, but it would have been nice if we had some time to have fun before work,” Buffy replied, pouting slightly.

Spike frowned. “Fun?”

“Is that such a foreign concept?” she teased.

“No, but…” Spike shrugged. “Killing things is fun.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “There are other ways to have fun, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Like dancing with yours truly.” Buffy stepped just a little closer.

Spike smiled. “All we’ve ever done is danced.”

“Maybe we ought to try a different venue.”

“You two lovebirds going to get down to business any time tonight?” Faith asked, her tone sharp.

Spike took a step away from Buffy, putting some much-needed distance between the two of them. “You ready to go?”

“There you are!” Wesley’s voice cut through the noise, although he stiffened when he saw Spike. “What is he doing here?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “There’s a demon that needs to be killed, and it requires all hands on deck.” He suddenly grinned. “In fact, maybe that ought to include you.”

“What?” Wesley took a step back as if he was afraid Spike was going to grab him. “I’ll have you know I’m a Watcher. It’s my job to instruct and guide the Slayer. Watchers are not required for field work.”

Faith and Buffy exchanged a look, completely in one accord for the first time in weeks. “That’s probably a good thing,” Faith said. “You’d just be in the way.”

“I am highly trained in the art of hand to hand combat!” Wesley shot back, stung.

Buffy snorted. “Right. Spike says Balthazar isn’t dead.”

“He most certainly is,” Wesley said. “My books—”

“Aren’t worth shit,” Spike said rudely, tired of Wesley’s pretentious attitude. “Where’s the amulet?”

“It’s in a safe place.”

Buffy reached forward, ignoring Wesley’s squeak of affront, and pulled out the amulet. “Maybe we should put it somewhere that’s actually safe.”

“How did you know it was there?” Wesley demanded.

Buffy sighed. “It made your jacket pooch.” She looked over at Spike. “What are you thinking?”

“That you two aren’t going in alone,” Spike said. “We can wait until tomorrow night to take care of this demon.”

Faith frowned. “Screw that. I’m in the mood for some damage.”

Spike shook his head. “From what I’ve heard, there’s at least a dozen Eliminati, plus the demon. Not odds I want you two facing on your own.”

“You mean you don’t want your precious Buffy facing those kind of odds,” Faith shot back.

Spike glared at her. “Listen up, little girl. You might not want to listen to your Watcher—which makes sense since he’s a complete git—”

Wesley was indignant. “Hey!”

“But you’ll listen to me. I’ve been around longer than you, and I know losing odds when I see them. Might not want to sleep with you, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

Spike’s tone of voice was one Buffy hadn’t heard before. It was hard—tough and authoritative, and she found herself grateful that he hadn’t ever tried talking to her like that. There was something about it that caused Faith to look away, almost cowed. “Whatever.”

“Good.” Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Where are you staying?”

“Motel out by the highway,” Faith muttered.

Spike nodded. “Fine. You need to do some violence tonight, you do a patrol. Sweep the cemeteries and keep your head down.”

To Buffy’s surprise, Faith didn’t argue, even if she didn’t say anything that could be termed an agreement. After she had disappeared into the crowd, Buffy turned to Spike in surprise. “What was that?”

“That was me being the pack-leader,” Spike said with grim satisfaction. “Not a card I like to play all that often, but a girl like Faith respects a show of strength.”

Wesley apparently felt that he needed to try and regain the ground he’d lost. “Excuse me, but I am the Watcher here.”

Spike glanced at him with disdain. “When you start acting like one, I’ll let you know. Let’s get this out of here, Buffy.”

Buffy couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of satisfaction that Spike was hers.

He was really hot when he was taking charge.

~~~~~

“How long are we going to have to put up with him, Giles?” Buffy whined the next day.

Wesley had been talking about “training regimens,” and Buffy had attempted to explain that Spike was in charge of that but to no avail. He was driving her crazy.

Giles sighed. He wasn’t happy about the Council’s choice for his replacement, either, although he couldn’t help but be relieved at Buffy’s change of attitude. Since the Cruciamentum she’d been a little cold towards him. She’d done a complete about-face once Wesley had arrived, however.

“I’m afraid he’s here for the duration, Buffy,” Giles replied. “That’s who the Council wanted.”

“Why?” she demanded. “It doesn’t make any sense!”

Giles grimaced. “I won’t argue with you. Honestly, I’m not certain why the Council would place Wesley in such a position. Active Slayers are usually assigned to a—well, an older Watcher.”

Buffy slumped in her seat. “I’m not training with him,” she warned him. “Spike and I are doing just fine.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” Giles said. “How are you and Spike?”

“What are you talking about?” Buffy said, trying for complete innocence and not quite managing it.

“I think you know.”

Buffy wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Are you angry?”

“I ought to be,” Giles said sternly. He shook his head. “Spike’s soul might be permanent, but he is still a vampire.” His face softened. “But I believe he’d lay down his life for you, Buffy, and that’s something.”

Buffy shook her head. “This wasn’t what I wanted, Giles.”

Giles thought of his relationship with Joyce, and although he didn’t say anything, he certainly understood. He never should have entered into a relationship with Buffy’s mother—except that sometimes, you really had no control over who you fell in love with. “Be careful, Buffy.”

“Always,” she promised him with a smile.


	26. Chapter 26

**“What if I say I shall not wait?/What if I burst the fleshly gate/And pass, escaped, to thee?/What if I file this mortal off,/See where it hurt me,—that’s enough,—/And wade in liberty?/They cannot take us any more,—/Dungeons may call, and guns implore;/ Unmeaning now, to me,/As laughter was an hour ago,/Or laces, or a travelling show,/Or who died yesterday!” ~Emily Dickinson, “XXXIV”**

 

Spike had arranged to meet the Slayers outside the warehouse, giving them strict instructions to wait for him before going in. Thinking about it now, Spike wasn’t sure he trusted either one of them to wait; both girls could be hotheaded, especially Faith.

 

There was nothing he could do about it at the moment, however. When Spike had called Buffy earlier to make arrangements, she had indicated that Giles knew about their relationship. Spike wanted to be sure that Giles wasn’t planning on staking him at the earliest opportunity.

 

It wouldn’t do to make an enemy of Giles for the same reason he’d spoken to Joyce. Spike wanted to enjoy the rest of his unlife.

 

When he arrived, however, the library was in a shambles, and Giles was nowhere in sight. “Spike?”

 

He turned to see Willow coming through the library doors, followed closely by Oz. “What happened?”

 

“Was hoping the two of you could tell me,” Spike replied. “When was the last time you saw Rupert?”

 

“He was having a discussion with the new Watcher about an hour ago,” Oz said, his tone suggesting that “discussion” was probably a euphemism for “fight.”

 

Willow grimaced. “We didn’t want to get in the middle of it, so we left.” She frowned, worried. “What do you think happened?”

 

Spike shook his head. “Dunno, but I would guess we’ve got the Eliminati to thank for it. No one else is rearing their ugly heads in Sunnydale right now.”

 

“You think they went after the amulet?” Oz asked, having been filled in on the details by Willow.

 

“As good a guess as any, I suppose.” He went into Giles’ office, gathering a few weapons, including a crossbow for Oz and a sword for himself. “You two up for a bit of violence?”

 

Willow brightened considerably. Buffy had discouraged her from accompanying them earlier in the day, even though Willow had made her own protection pouch. It felt good to know that Spike trusted her to be able to take care of herself, even if Buffy didn’t. “You bet!”

 

Spike nodded. “I want you two to keep your heads down, you hear me? Do your best to stay out of the line of fire. That said, I’m counting on you to provide enough of a distraction so the Slayers and I can go in and get Rupert out.”

 

“No problem,” Oz replied easily.

 

Spike smiled. “Good. Willow?”

 

She frowned, then dashed into Giles’ office herself, coming out with a handful of magical supplies. “I’ve been working on setting things on fire,” she said helpfully.

 

“Good enough, pet. Let’s go, then.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy really had planned on waiting for Spike before going after the Eliminati or Balthazar. She and Faith had done some reconnaissance, and it was obvious that they were outmanned. Spike’s presence was definitely required to even things up.

 

Faith had even been marginally friendlier. Apparently, whatever Spike had done the night before had slightly straightened out the other Slayer’s attitude. Buffy wondered why he hadn’t pulled rank before, and if it would last.

 

Somehow, she doubted it.

 

What they hadn’t planned on was getting attacked by a group of the Eliminati who had noticed their presence. It turned into a nasty fight. The vampires were good fighters, certainly a match for a Slayer. The combination of sword and dagger made it difficult to get in under their guard, and it was all either girl could do just to stay alive.

 

Buffy grabbed Faith’s arm. “We need to retreat!”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m thinking a change of venue is in order.”

 

Faith seemed to agree, because she rushed the knot of vampires at the end of the alley, managing to surprise them. Faith dusted one as she passed, Buffy close on her heels. That left half a dozen vampires to follow them. Buffy realized that the vampires weren’t just going to let them go.

 

What was worse, they were getting farther and farther away from the warehouse, which was where Spike had planned on meeting them. That left her and Faith on their own.

 

Faith took a wrong turn, winding up in a blind alley. This one was a little more spacious than the last, however, and Buffy managed to disarm one vampire, taking his sword before she dusted him. Faith was busy with two at once, and Buffy concentrated on the other four.

 

Buffy took the head off one of them, then ran a second through. Unfortunately, the sword got caught on something, and she couldn’t manage to pull it out. Buffy pulled a stake from her waistband, ducking under the swing of the third and putting it through his heart.

 

She quickly ducked and rolled when she saw the flash of silver descending towards her head. Buffy reached out, blindly grasping for the weapon she’d glimpsed. Her hand closed around the hilt of a sword out of sheer luck and she swung, connecting with the vampire’s legs. It went down with a howl, and she quickly cut off its head.

 

The vampire she’d stuck through with a sword had managed to pull it out, and he was now staggering away. Buffy ignored him in favor of one of the vampires Faith was still fighting off. The other Slayer was fighting like a wild thing, teeth bared and arms flailing almost wildly.

 

Buffy dusted one, and the second turned and ran, Faith close behind. “Faith!” Buffy called, hoping that the other Slayer wasn’t going to lead them into a trap.

 

She rounded a corner, hot on the trail, and skidded to a halt, frozen with horror. “Faith, NO!”

 

Buffy could see it happening in slow motion, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. The stake hit the man square in the chest, and Buffy could see immediately that Faith had struck true. She stumbled the last few steps to the man’s side. Blood was pouring out of the wound, and Buffy knelt on the ground. “Just—just hold still. It’s going to be fine.” She looked up at the other Slayer. “Call 911 now!”

 

Faith was in shock, held completely still. “I didn’t know!”

 

“Faith, we need to get an ambulance!” The stranger’s lifeblood was literally gushing out of the wound, and Buffy knew with a sinking realization that it wouldn’t matter when the ambulance got there; he was already as good as dead.

 

“I didn’t know!” Faith repeated, freaking out. “He just came out of nowhere! How was I supposed to know he wasn’t a vampire?”

 

“I need something to stop the blood,” Buffy said, trying to staunch the flow with her hands, even though she knew it was a losing battle. “It’s going to be okay,” she assured the man again.

 

It was already too late, however. He convulsed once, twice, before shuddering and slumping against the dumpster. “We gotta go!” Faith said, pulling Buffy up.

 

Buffy tried to shake the other girl off, trying to figure out what she should do. What could she do? How were they supposed to explain this? It wasn’t exactly Faith’s fault, but there was no way that the cops were going to believe that they’d been out hunting vampires when a human got in the way. “We have to go!” Faith said again, dragging her away.

 

Buffy decided that Faith was right. They didn’t have a choice. At the very least, they needed to get back to the warehouse and Spike.

 

Spike. He would know what to do. Or Giles would. Her Watcher would know.

 

Faith split from Buffy’s side, hauling herself up and over a wall, in the opposite direction from the warehouse. Buffy didn’t try to stop her. Instead, she kept going, climbing the chain link fence at the end of the alley, jogging back in the direction of the warehouse.

 

Buffy was too freaked by what had happened to pay much attention to the car until it pulled up right beside her. “Buffy!” She glanced over to see Spike’s Mustang. The front passenger door opened, and Buffy saw Oz sitting in the passenger seat. “Get in.”

 

Oz climbed into the back seat, and Buffy slid inside. She could see Spike’s pale face, worried in the light from the streetlamp that filtered in through the windshield. “What happened, Buffy? Where’s Faith?”

 

“Fine, Faith is fine,” Buffy said, not really answering his question. “It’ll wait till later. What’s going on?”

 

“The Eliminati have Rupert,” Spike said.

 

Buffy nodded. “Let’s go.”

 

“You sure?” he asked. He could smell the blood on her. “You don’t—”

 

“It’s Giles,” Buffy replied. “Of course I’m sure.”

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley was whimpering. Giles didn’t even bother resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The young Watcher had been absolutely useless in the fight against the Eliminati, not that Giles thought he’d have been able to do that well on his own.

 

He had some hope, though. Spike had told him that he wanted to speak with him before going to the warehouse with the Slayers. It was likely that the vampire already knew of their predicament. With any luck, he would grab the girls and arrive before Balthazar ordered his minions to torture them.

 

Of course, recent luck had brought Wesley, so Giles wasn’t going to hold his breath.

 

“Stay calm, Mr. Giles,” Wesley muttered. “We have to stay calm.”

 

Giles looked over at him with disdain. “Thank God you’re here. I was planning to panic.”

 

Wesley stared at the huge, pasty demon wedged into a Jacuzzi. “What is that thing?”

 

“That’s your dead demon,” Giles muttered.

 

“There’s no need to get snippy,” Wesley replied, drawing himself up, his panic momentarily forgotten.

 

Balthazar turned his beady eyes on the Watchers. “Bring them closer,” he ordered, waiting until the Eliminati had done as he asked. “You know what I want.”

 

“If it’s to scrub those hard to reach places, I’d like to request you kill me now,” Giles said dryly. One of the vampires hit him in the back. “Ow.”

 

Balthazar fixed them with a look that he probably thought was terrifying. “I want my amulet! Where is it?” There was a moment’s silence. “I want answers! Pull off their kneecaps!”

 

“NO! No, wait, we’ll tell you,” Wesley babbled as the vampires came even closer.

 

Balthazar sniffed. “It’s about time. Where is it?”

 

“I don’t have it,” Wesley said. “But—”

 

“Shut up, you fool!” Giles snapped. “He’s going to kill the both of us whether we tell him or not.”

 

“That’s true,” Balthazar admitted. “But you’ll die a lot faster if you’ll tell me.”

 

“The Slayer has it!” Wesley said.

 

Giles stepped on his foot. “Wesley! Shut up, man.”

 

“She gave it to a friend of hers, a vampire,” Wesley went on, ignoring Giles’ pleas for silence.

 

Balthazar grunted. “Who is this vampire?”

 

“Name’s William the Bloody,” Spike said, coming out of the shadows. He grinned evilly. “Funny thing about that amulet, though. It was a lot more fragile than it looked. Felt bad when I stepped on it.”

 

“KILL HIM!” Balthazar howled, immediately incensed, both at Spike’s words and his insolent manner.

 

Spike leapt into action, not even paying attention to the vampires on either side of him. One of them burst into flame and the second disintegrated as Oz shot it with his crossbow.

 

The vampires holding Giles and Wesley released the Watchers to deal with the new threat, not even noticing when Buffy came out from the shadows on the other side of the warehouse. The minion that did spot her was no match for the Slayer, who was heartily sick of the whole mess. She disarmed him with a quick spin-kick, staking him in one smooth motion. Scooping the discarded sword up from the floor, she sliced through Giles’ ropes with an overhanded slice.

 

Giles turned his attention to getting Wesley free, allowing Buffy and the others to concentrate on keeping the vampires occupied. Balthazar was still hurtling imprecations on his minions, but there wasn’t much he could do from where he sat.

 

Giles saw the vampire coming at him out of the corner of his eye, and he ducked the arc of the blade, feeling its passage just above his head. Giles brought his fist up into the vampire’s stomach, and then grabbed his arm, bringing the bone down hard over his knee.

 

The vampire howled and dropped the sword, which Giles quickly scooped up. Now with a weapon in hand much to his liking, he started in on the remaining Eliminati.

 

Wesley was cowering behind Oz, which was just as well; it would keep the git out of harm’s way. Willow was busy concentrating on setting yet another vampire on fire, and Balthazar was somehow managing to pull Spike towards his tub.

 

Spike was fighting the pull, but without success. Balthazar had the vampire around the neck, dragging him into the tub. “You’ll pay!” the demon was vowing. “You’ll pay!”

 

“Spike!” Giles heard Buffy’s call, and he watched as she darted gracefully across the warehouse floor, grabbing one of the lamps near the tub and plunging it into the water.

 

Spike scrambled out of the way as the electricity boiled Balthazar in his own juices. Both Buffy and Giles headed over to help Spike up. “Are you alright?” Giles asked first.

 

“Just peachy,” Spike replied, shaking his head to release the cloud that Balthazar’s hold had put over him.

 

A screech came from the demon’s direction. “You think you’ve won,” Balthazar wheezed. “When he rises, you’ll wish I’d killed you all.”

 

Silence descended over the warehouse at his last words. “What the bloody hell did that mean?” Spike asked finally.

 

“I don’t know,” Giles replied, “but I think it’s time for us to get out of here.”

 

Spike turned to fix Wesley with a yellow gaze. “Try to give up the game a little faster next time,” he growled. “That way I’ll have an excuse to bite you.”

 

They could all hear Wesley gulp as he scuttled out of Spike’s way when Spike brushed past him. Buffy gave him an equally disgusted look and the others followed suit. Even Willow shook her head as she walked past him, and Wesley found himself flushing deeply.

 

His first real battle, and he had shown himself to be a coward.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy had insisted on seeing Spike home. He’d been dazed enough from his brush with Balthazar that she had wanted to make sure that he was going to be okay.

 

Spike, however, was just fine. “Where did the blood come from, Buffy?”

 

She was taken aback by his abrupt question, the hard tone causing her to take a step back. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I can smell it on you,” Spike said, taking a step towards her. “If you’re hurt—”

 

“I’m fine,” she insisted, backing away again, then turning towards the door. “You’re obviously feeling better, so I’m just gonna—”

 

The hand on her arm stilled her words. “Buffy.”

 

That one word was so gentle, carrying with it a wealth of understanding, and Buffy turned. Spike frowned when he saw the tears in her eyes. “Luv, what is it?”

 

“Faith—we killed a man, Spike. A human.”

 

“What?” He frowned, pulling her into the living room and sitting her down on the couch. “What happened?”

 

The words came out in a rush, and Buffy found herself shaking. She felt dirty, even though her hand wasn’t the one that had been holding the stake. She had watched a man die, and she couldn’t help feeling that it was at least partially her fault.

 

“I don’t know, Spike. I guess I just panicked. We both ran, and then you were there, and Giles needed me, and—”

 

“Hush now, pet,” Spike said, pulling her into his chest and rocking her. “Hush now. We’ll get this sorted. I’m right here.”

 

“What am I going to do?” Buffy asked. “It wasn’t her fault, Spike. He came out of nowhere.”

 

Spike rubbed a soothing pattern on her back. “Course it wasn’t either of your faults. Accidents happen, luv, especially in the middle of a fight.”

 

She clutched him, relishing his strength. Buffy had never realized how tired she got of being the strong one. It felt good for someone else to take charge for a while—to trust someone to take care of things.

 

Buffy took in a shuddering breath and reluctantly pulled back. “I should get home. I’ve got school tomorrow.”

 

“Let me talk to Rupert,” Spike urged. “I’d bet the Council has dealt with this kind of thing before.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Spike, I don’t—”

 

“Listen to me.” His eyes bored into hers. “Hiding it isn’t going to do anyone any good. There are ways of getting rid of the evidence, but it’s got to be done immediately, and it’s got to be done right. That’s out of the question now. At this point, all I’m worried about is damage control.”

 

“What about Faith?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike shook his head. “We’ll just have to see. I imagine she panicked, just like you did.”

 

There was something in his tone that expressed his doubt, however, and Buffy stiffened. “What are you thinking?”

 

“That Faith might be out of control,” Spike said quietly.

 

Buffy stood abruptly. “No, Spike! You weren’t there, you don’t—”

 

“I know,” he assured her as gently as he could. Standing and putting his hands on Buffy’s shoulders, Spike cocked his head, making sure she was listening. “I don’t doubt that it was an accident, luv, but Faith—we’ll just see. I’ll do all I can for her.”

 

“Thanks,” Buffy murmured. “I just can’t help but think that it could have been me there, you know?”

 

“I do know.” Spike pulled her in, holding her tightly, relishing the feel of her arms around his waist.

 

He knew all too well.


	27. Chapter 27

**“Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast/In a field I looked into going past,/And the ground almost covered smooth in snow,/But a few weeds and stubble showing last…I am too absent-spirited to count;/The loneliness includes me unawares./And lonely as it is that loneliness/Will be more lonely ere it will be less—/A blanker whiteness of benighted snow/With no expression, nothing to express./They cannot scare me with their empty spaces/Between stars—on stars where no human race is./I have it in me so much nearer home/To scare myself with my own desert places.” ~Robert Frost, “Desert Places”**

 

After much discussion, Spike and Buffy decided that reporting the incident to Giles could wait until the next day. Everyone was tired, and it was unlikely that any of them were up to dealing with an accidental killing.

 

Once Buffy had left, Spike showered and collapsed on the bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this exhausted, and yet sleep still wouldn’t come.

 

He couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he hadn’t pushed Faith a little closer to the edge with his refusal. Maybe he could have done something if he hadn’t gone to talk to Giles and had instead gone straight to the warehouse. If only he’d kept his eye on the job, and not the girl.

 

If only Spike had never come to Sunnydale in the first place.

 

It was too late to go back now. Spike knew that. He was too connected to these people, to their lives. His heart was involved.

 

With a growl of frustration, he rose, realizing that sleep was not going to come this day. Daytime TV was mind-numbing, however, and Spike let the words and images wash over him without taking any of it in.

 

The house was silent around him except for the noise of the television, but it was not a comfort, not like it used to be.

 

The knock on the door came as a welcome distraction. “Come in, Rupert,” Spike said, moving out of the doorway, carefully avoiding the sunlight.

 

“Forgive me for disturbing you,” Giles said. “I hope I didn’t get you out of bed.”

 

Spike shook his head. “Couldn’t sleep. Something to drink? Tea?”

 

“Scotch, if you’ve got it,” Giles responded, smiling thinly at Spike’s raised eyebrow. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you that your home is quite nice.”

 

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Spike poured a drink for both of them. “I like a soft bed as much as the next bloke.”

 

Giles took a seat. “Rumor had it you never sleep.”

 

“That’s not as far from the truth as I’d like it to be,” Spike admitted. “Much as I enjoy your company, you didn’t come for the small talk. What is it, Rupes?”

 

Giles sighed. “I came to talk to you about Buffy.”

 

“This where you tell me to get the hell out of town?”

 

“Hardly.” Giles fiddled with the glass. “I don’t think I told you what Angelus did to me.”

 

“No, you didn’t.”

 

“He killed the woman I loved and left her in my bed for me to find.” Giles was proud of how even his tone was, and he could see Spike’s wince before the vampire regained his mask of composure.

 

“Bloody hell, mate,” Spike murmured. “I’m sorry.”

 

Giles just smiled—a small, sad smile with a hint of wistfulness about it. “I think you would have liked Jenny.”

 

“I don’t doubt it,” Spike replied carefully, wondering where the Watcher was going with this.

 

Giles took a deep breath. “So you can see why I’m hesitant to endorse Buffy’s relationship with a vampire,” he finally continued. “It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s not even that I don’t trust you, Spike. It’s simply that we have no guarantee of the soul’s security, except your word.”

 

Spike nodded. “That’s true enough. I’m not sure what else I can give you, though. Didn’t keep any records.”

 

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened, exactly what the gypsies did,” Giles said, his tone fierce.

 

Spike started to object, but then he stopped. He was beginning to think that Sunnydale might end up being more than just a job, more than just another brief stop on his long road. If he was going to stay, perhaps he did owe Giles an explanation.

 

“This doesn’t leave the room.” Spike stared at the other man, waiting for a sign of acquiescence. “What I’m telling you, it’s only because I know you’re not with the Council anymore.”

 

“I understand.”

 

Spike stood. He didn’t think he could sit still for this story. “You’re asking a question no one knows the answer to,” he began. “Told you that the gypsies made a mistake, that I went after them later, got them to close the loophole. That’s not the beginning of the story, though. You know what Angel was before he got turned?”

 

Giles frowned, his memory fuzzy. “I think I remember something about him being a merchant’s son.”

 

“He was a whoring lay-about,” Spike said bluntly. “Didn’t care about anyone but himself. I’m not saying he was evil, mind, but he wasn’t worth much either.”

 

Giles was beginning to see where Spike was going with this line of thought. “And you?”

 

“I was the only son of a good woman, and she made certain that she raised a good man.” Spike was quiet for a moment. “I’m not saying I was worth much, either, you understand. I was a—well, William wasn’t a hero, that’s for certain. But I was a good man.”

 

The expression on Spike’s face was almost nostalgic. “I think that’s what made the difference, you know? It was the soul that made Angelus bearable at best. Me? I was evil, but it was all about the fight and the hunt. Didn’t much care for torture, even though I did my fair share. Maybe if I’d run after I got my soul back, things would have been different, but instead I got three years of torture.”

 

Spike looked over at Giles. “You ever been tortured by an expert for days on end?” When Giles shook his head, he sighed. “Hard to explain then. It might not have been so bad if the bastard had wanted something, but he didn’t. There wasn’t anything I could say, anything I could do, to get him to quit. Angelus would get tired of hurting me after a while and move on to a different victim, but sooner or later he’d come back to me.”

 

Spike was completely lost in his memories at this point. “I would have eventually found a way to escape, I think. Either that or I would have managed to dust myself. He got his soul, though, so I didn’t have to.”

 

He faced Giles. “I had three years to stare into the face of evil, Rupert. Three years to watch a master at work, to see him for what he truly was. It was like looking into a mirror, and I decided that the first thing I was going to do was to make sure I would never unleash that beast inside of me again. I figured that if I could be given a soul, it might get snatched away again too, and I would have rather died permanently first.” Spike shrugged. “So I found a gypsy who would sit still long enough to talk to a vampire, and I told him what I wanted. He was a reasonable bloke, and as soon as I explained that I didn’t want to get rid of the soul, he was willing to help me out.”

 

“What did he do?” Giles asked.

 

“Binding ritual of some kind,” Spike replied. “Something to make sure that the soul stayed with me just like a human soul stays with its body. There’s nothing that’s going to shake it loose at this point, short of death.”

 

“And why didn’t Angel do the same?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he was a lazy bastard. Don’t know that the gypsies would have helped him anyway, since he was the one they were originally going after.”

 

Giles nodded slowly. “I see. That correlates well with much of the research I’ve done on the subject.”

 

Spike decided it was time to change the subject. “Buffy talk to you about last night’s incident?”

 

“What incident?”

 

Spike quickly repeated what Buffy had said, and Giles took in a slow, deep breath. “I see. Neither Faith nor Buffy said anything.”

 

“I think Buffy was trying to protect her,” Spike said quietly. “It’s Faith’s reaction I’m most concerned about. Buffy’s sick over it.”

 

“And Faith has shown no remorse?” Giles asked.

 

Spike shook his head. “That’s what I don’t know, since I haven’t spoken with her.”

 

Giles nodded. “I think we ought to leave it that way. I’ll speak to Faith, and I think we’ll leave the Council out of it for now. I’m not sure that Wesley is equipped to handle a situation like this.”

 

Spike snorted. “No kidding.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy knocked on the door, not looking forward to seeing Faith’s reaction when she told the Faith that Spike knew about the incident. While she hadn’t exactly promised to keep their secret, she suspected that Faith would regard her telling Spike about the death as a betrayal.

 

“Hey,” Faith said, after the door swung open. “What’s up?”

 

“We need to talk,” Buffy replied.

 

Faith backed away from the door, going back over to the sink where she was scrubbing at a shirt. “About what?”

 

“You know about what.” Buffy crossed her arms in front of her chest. “We killed a man, Faith.”

 

Faith tossed her head impatiently. “That’s right. _We_ did. You and me, B. We’re in this together.”

 

“I told Spike.”

 

You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Faith stared at her, dark eyes flashing. “You did what?”

 

“I told Spike,” Buffy repeated. “He knew something was wrong. He could smell the blood on me, and—”

 

“Shut up!” Faith said furiously. “You little snitch!”

 

Buffy frowned. “Spike said he’d help, Faith. He said—”

 

“Do you think I care what that undead do-gooder said?” Faith demanded. “I took care of it, Buffy. You don’t need to worry about it.”

 

“A man is dead, Faith.” Buffy took a deep breath. “Look, I know how you’re feeling. I feel it too. Scared, sick—like something twisted your insides, but—”

 

Faith smirked. “Yeah, that’s how you feel. Not me.”

 

“Don’t you get it?” Buffy demanded. “You killed a man!”

 

“Don’t you get it? I don’t care!”

 

Buffy stared at her. “Faith, you don’t mean that.”

 

“Who says?” Faith asked. “Buffy, we’re Slayers. We have the power. It’s want, take, have. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that’s his problem, not mine.”

 

Buffy didn’t know how to respond to that. “Faith…”

 

“I took care of the body,” Faith told her. “It’s done, and it’s not going to be found. So don’t worry about it, B. Go back to your boytoy.”

 

Buffy’s face hardened. “You’re out of line.”

 

“Am I?” she asked. “You got him, didn’t you? He’s following you around like a lovesick puppy. It’s really pathetic.”

 

Buffy took a step back. “Where is this coming from, Faith? Last I heard, you didn’t have any interest in the undead.”

 

“Yeah, well, guess I’m a vampire slayer, not a vampire layer.”

 

The words were calculated to hurt, and Faith hit her mark. Buffy didn’t bother to reply to that barb, instead turning and stalking out of the hotel room.

 

She wasn’t sure where to go. Her first inclination was to run to Giles, but she was afraid of his reaction. Spike had talked about going to Giles together, and that would be ideal, but now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to rely so much on Spike’s help.

 

Was Faith right? Was there something wrong with her? She _was_ a Vampire Slayer, and here she had gone and fallen for another vampire. Scott Hope seemed to prove that she couldn’t make it with a normal guy. So what was she supposed to do?

 

Buffy bit her lip, undecided. She could go home. Or she could go see Spike.

 

Or she could do something else altogether.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow looked up, surprised to see Buffy standing at the French doors. “Buffy? What are you doing here?”

 

“I had to talk to someone.”

 

Willow sat up straight. “Okay. Is it bad?”

 

“Yeah. Kind of.” Tears started leaking down her cheeks. “I don’t—I don’t know who else to talk to.”

 

“Oh!” Willow exclaimed, quickly coming to put her arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? Is it Spike? Is he being a poophead? Because if he is…” Willow trailed off. “I’ll figure out something. I’m not up to turning people into frogs yet, but I’ll bet I could manage something really nasty.”

 

Buffy shook her head wordlessly. “No, Spike’s great. He’s perfect. It’s just—” The whole story came pouring out, including her confrontation with Faith. “Is she right, Willow? Is there something wrong with me?”

 

Willow shook her head frantically. “No, Buffy! You’re just special, that’s all.”

 

“But _vampires_ , Willow,” Buffy sniffled. “Why is it always a vampire? Why can’t I be with a normal guy?”

 

Willow frowned. “Buffy, I think you’re looking at this the wrong way. You’re the Slayer, and you’re special. So is Spike. It just makes sense that you two would be attracted to each other.”

 

Buffy swiped a hand across her wet cheeks. “You really think so? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

 

“Would I do that to you?” Willow asked. “Buffy, this thing between you and Spike has been building for a long time.”

 

Buffy didn’t look convinced. “Willow—”

 

“Trust me,” Willow said firmly.

 

“Okay.” There was a pause. “You really don’t think there’s something wrong with me?”

 

“Buffy, Spike’s my friend,” Willow said frankly. “I like him. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be encouraging you.”

 

She sighed. “What am I going to do?”

 

“Talk to Giles,” Willow urged. “Spike’s right. He can help you, and maybe he can talk some sense into Faith.”

 

Buffy wasn’t so sure about that.

 

~~~~~

 

“Giles?” Buffy called as she entered the library. It was early evening, and she had thought to catch him here before she swung by Spike’s place to head out on patrol. “Giles?”

 

“Ah, Miss Summers,” Wesley said. “It’s about time you showed up.”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

 

“We really must talk about your training,” Wesley insisted. “You have been quite lax with Mr. Giles, but—”

 

Buffy glared at him. “Spike’s training me. It’s taken care of.”

 

“I really don’t believe that’s a good idea.” Wesley drew himself up to his full height. “As a vampire, Spike can hardly know how a Slayer ought to train. I trained for years for this position. I am well aware of the best hand to hand fighting techniques, and I—”

 

“You’re a git, Wesley,” Spike said from behind him. “Bugger off.”

 

Wesley let out a very unmanly squeak, whirling. “You—you can’t tell me what to do!”

 

Spike stared at him for a moment. “You’re right.”

 

“Of course I am.”

 

“I’m undermining your authority.”

 

Buffy knew Spike was planning something by his tone, which was way too agreeable for the vampire to be serious.

 

“I’m glad you recognize that,” Wesley replied, unbending slightly.

 

Spike smirked. “Which is why I’m going to do you a favor, mate.”

 

Wesley frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“I’m going to make sure you survive long enough to pull that stick out of your arse,” Spike said, his smirk widening into a grin.

 

The Watcher stared at him, his mouth opening and closing in a perfect imitation of a fish. “Why—why you!”

 

Spike ignored him, turning to look at a snickering Buffy. “You ready to go, luv?”

 

“Where is Giles?” Buffy asked, suddenly wanting to talk to her Watcher very badly.

 

“I took care of it.”

 

“There’s more.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“What are you two talking about?” Wesley demanded, finally regaining his speech.

 

Buffy smiled impishly. “Oh, didn’t we tell you?” she inquired innocently. “Spike got me pregnant.”

 

~~~~~

 

They were both still howling with laughter when they arrived at Giles’ apartment, so much so that he insisted on being let in on the joke. Giles frowned. “Buffy—”

 

“Giles, you should have seen the look on his face!” Buffy protested, sensing an upcoming lecture. She had needed the moment of levity amidst all the strife, but she’d also wanted to throw Wesley off track. He’d been too stunned by her words to even attempt to follow them.

 

Giles sighed. “That wasn’t my point. My point was that if you’re going to do something like that, you ought to make sure I’m there as well. I wish I hadn’t missed it.”

 

Buffy sobered. “There’s more about the Faith thing, Giles.” She told him about Faith’s lack of remorse, but didn’t get into details about what exactly Faith had said to her.

 

“That doesn’t bode well,” Spike muttered.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I can’t believe she meant it. Faith’s probably just trying to cover.”

 

“Or she’s got a taste for killing now,” Spike interjected. “Buffy, killing someone is a rush. Faith likes her adrenaline.”

 

Giles held up a hand to stall the argument he knew was coming. “We don’t know what’s going on in Faith’s head, therefore it’s impossible to know what our reaction to her statement should be.”

 

“What are we going to do, Giles?” Buffy asked.

 

He pulled off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t know. Normally, I would say that the Council ought to be contacted—”

 

“Giles!”

 

“—but not in this case,” he continued, ignoring Buffy’s exclamation. “Faith’s mental state is precarious enough. I don’t think the Council will demonstrate the necessary delicacy. If Faith is correct, and the body is not found, that gives us a little more time.”

 

“And if the body turns up?” Buffy asked.

 

Giles’ face suggested that the idea pained him. “Then we may have to call in the Council for reinforcements. I will make certain that it is taken care of. That much I can promise you, Buffy.”

 

~~~~~

 

It was unfortunate for everyone that the body did turn up. Worse, it turned out to be the deputy mayor, and Wesley was all-too-insistent that Buffy and Faith investigate. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Wesley,” Buffy said, hoping that the man would finally take a hint and go away. “I mean, this seems more like something for the police.”

 

“Nevertheless, he’s an important figure in this town,” Wesley replied. “There might be something more insidious behind this.”

 

Faith shrugged. “Sure. I don’t have a problem investigating.”

 

She gave Buffy a smug look, although that quickly disappeared when Giles cleared his throat. “Ah, Faith, I need to speak to you for a moment.”

 

Wesley opened his mouth to protest, and Buffy bit back a groan even as she said, “Wesley, you said you wanted to talk about tests or something?”

 

The younger Watcher was immediately distracted. “Oh, yes, Buffy. Thank you for reminding me.”

 

As he started to drone on about the importance of honing skills, and the necessity for establishing a baseline so as to more accurately track improvement, Buffy wondered how long she’d have to keep Wesley distracted. It was generally understood that if Wesley knew about the Slayers’ role in the death of the deputy mayor, he’d get the Council involved.

 

That would not be good.

 

Of course, Faith didn’t seem nearly as concerned about that. The other Slayer stalked out of Giles office, the door slamming into the wall with a bang that caused Wesley to jump. She turned to look at Buffy. “Stay out of my way.”

 

Buffy watched her leave, turning to look at Giles. “What just happened?”

 

“She didn’t react well to my questioning her reactions,” Giles replied. “Other than that, I’m just as much in the dark as you.”

 

“What is going on?” Wesley demanded. When Giles and Buffy just looked at each other, he scowled. “I really must insist! I am your Watcher, Buffy, and I—”

 

“The deputy mayor is dead because he jumped out in front of Faith the other night,” Buffy said.

 

Wesley’s expression changed from anger to befuddlement. “I don’t understand.”

 

Buffy mimed staking something. “Pointy wooden thing? Slayer’s aim? You do the math.”

 

Wesley sat. “I see. This is serious.”

 

“Which was what I was trying to explain to Faith.” Giles sighed. “She doesn’t seem to understand.”

 

Wesley quickly stood. “Well, our duty is clear in such cases. We must let the Council know. If Faith has gone rogue, it is most important that—”

 

“We don’t unbalance her further,” Giles said firmly. “I must ask that you listen to me in this case, Wesley. I know a little something about those who are on edge. It is important that we give her time to cool off. Otherwise, she may become even more lost.”

 

Wesley appeared to consider that for a moment. “Yes, of course. If she does not come around, however—”

 

“Then you can call the Council,” Giles replied. He shook his head. “Let’s hope that it doesn’t come to that.”

 

Wesley didn’t say anything in response; instead he watched as Giles went back into his office and Buffy left the library. He would have to wait to call the Council until later, but of one thing he was certain.

 

Faith could not be allowed to continue down this path.


	28. Chapter 28

**“Parting after parting,/Sore loss and gnawing pain:/Meeting grows half a sorrow/Because of parting again./When shall the day break/That these things shall not be?/When shall new earth be ours/Without a sea,/And time that is not time/But eternity?/To meet, worth living for;/Worth dying for, to meet;/To meet, worth parting for,/Bitter forgot in sweet:/To meet worth parting before,/Never to part more.” ~Christina Rossetti, “Parting”**

 

They weren’t exactly speaking, but the job had to be done. Neither Buffy nor Faith were stupid. The deputy mayor had been in that alley for a reason, which was why they were in City Hall.

 

Funny how Spike’s presence wasn’t making it better.

 

Spike had more experience breaking in, however, and he had a car for the getaway, so it only made sense that he would accompany them. It had been Spike who insisted on Faith’s presence. In explaining his reasoning to Giles and Buffy, he had said, “Best to keep an eye on the girl right now.”

 

Giles had been hesitant about breaking into City Hall, although he’d agreed that something was going on. He’d finally warned them to be careful and not to tell Wesley.

 

It was too bad that they had been forced to tell Wesley the truth about the deputy mayor’s death in the first place. Buffy didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

 

Since she could throw Wesley pretty far, maybe that analogy didn’t work very well.

 

It probably would have been better if there had actually been evidence for them to sift through, since that would have given all of them something to do other than not talk to each other, but the files were empty. Someone had apparently anticipated their search. Finally, Faith threw up her hands. “There’s nothing here. This was a waste of time.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I agree. There’s nothing here, but that’s not normal. Spike?”

 

“Have to agree with you, pet.” Spike looked around the office. “Somebody did a real thorough job of cleaning up.”

 

Faith was starting to get it. “Too thorough?”

 

“Maybe.” Spike allowed. He stopped, cocking his head. “Bloody hell.” He motioned them to be quiet. A moment later, the Mayor’s voice could be heard echoing down the hallway. All three of them recognized the voice of the vampire at his side.

 

They waited until the echoes had died away. “The Mayor is a Black Hat?” Faith asked quietly.

 

Buffy nodded. “Seems that way.” A fleeting look of sadness crossed her face as she glanced around the office. “The deputy mayor was probably looking for us.”

 

Faith shrugged. “Well, maybe he should have waited for a better time.”

 

“Enough.” Spike fixed her with a hard stare. “Wasn’t his fault.”

 

Faith looked stung. “He came out of nowhere!” she hissed.

 

“I know, Faith,” Buffy said, throwing Spike a warning look.

 

Faith wouldn’t meet their eyes. “Whatever. It’s done.”

 

After that, there was nothing further to say. After they had managed to make it out of City Hall, Faith insisted that she didn’t need a ride, and she took off on her own. Spike and Buffy let her go, knowing that there wasn’t much they could do to stop her.

 

“What are you going to tell the cops?” Spike asked as they pulled up in front of Buffy’s house.

 

Buffy gave him a sharp glance. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Buffy, they’ve found the body. There are always witnesses. You need to figure out what you’re going to tell the cops and then stick to it.”

 

The seriousness of Spike’s tone had Buffy pausing. “Do you have any ideas?”

 

“Tell them you were with me.”

 

Buffy blinked. “Spike, what about Faith? If I say I was with you…”

 

“She doesn’t seem to be real interested in anything but herself, luv,” Spike replied. “My main concern is keeping you out of this.”

 

Buffy was a little taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. He meant what he said. She was his focus. It was an overwhelming realization. For the first time, Buffy thought she understood what Spike meant when he said he was all in.

 

It made her wonder what she had to offer Spike.

 

~~~~~

 

The silence in the library was thick and heavy. “So what now?” Xander asked, the first to break the silence as usual.

 

Willow already knew what had happened, but Xander hadn’t been told about Faith’s involvement in the murder yet. Neither of them were aware that the police knew that there was a good possibility that either Buffy or Faith were involved in the deputy mayor’s death.

 

They also needed to be informed that Faith was to be avoided for the time being, at least until they knew whether or not unpredictability was going to turn into danger.

 

Buffy slumped a little further in her chair. The interview with the detective earlier that day had not been fun. Even though her mom knew what had happened and had understood that accidents can happen, Joyce still wasn’t happy about having the police at the house. Buffy wondered how Faith had handled her interview with the cops.

 

She wondered if Faith had even stuck around, or if she’d decided to let Buffy take the heat.

 

“We wait,” Giles said quietly. “I believe that there is every possibility that Faith will come around on her own.”

 

Xander shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Maybe I should talk to her.” When everyone turned to stare at him, the tips of his ears turned pink. “We have a connection.”

 

“Xander, you guys have talked maybe twice,” Buffy said. “Why would you think—” She stopped abruptly. “Oh.”

 

Giles frowned, realizing that he was missing something. “What?”

 

Willow, who had figured it out as soon as Xander had started fidgeting, looked down steadily at her hands. “Xander had sex with Faith.”

 

“Oh.” Giles paused and then decided to ignore that information. “I would suggest that you stay away from her, Xander. Faith is highly volatile right now. Her reaction is unpredictable.”

 

He stood. “Meanwhile, I want you all to go about your business.” As the others filed out, Giles glanced over at Buffy. “How are you?”

 

“Surviving,” Buffy replied. “I have no idea what Faith told the cops. She could have said anything.”

 

“What exactly did you say?” Giles asked.

 

Buffy gave a short little laugh. “I told him I was with my boyfriend, which was sort of true. Then he asked me for Spike’s name and number.”

 

Giles raised an eyebrow. “It will be interesting to see how Spike handles that.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike handled the police with the same aplomb with which he’d been handling cops for years. Dealing with the law was not a new thing for him, and he had everything he needed to prove who he was.

 

His papers—that he’d paid top dollar for a few years ago—identified him as William Brighton, a British national who lived off his free-lance writing. Spike knew it was a cover story that seemed plausible. From the outside, his lifestyle appeared very modest, and he didn’t appear so old that his relationship with an eighteen year old girl would raise eyebrows too high.

 

The truth was always stranger than fiction.

 

From the hints that the cops had dropped, it appeared that while both Buffy and Faith were on their short-list of suspects, Faith was the one they were most concerned with. Buffy, after all, had an alibi, and a pretty good one. Faith’s was a little flimsier.

 

Spike had been thinking about the situation all day, since he couldn’t sleep, and he’d thought about a potential solution. Of course, it involved going behind both Watchers’ backs and going to Faith, but he thought the end result might be worth it.

 

When Faith opened the door, her expression suggested that she was ready to stake him if she didn’t like what he had to say. “You here to tell me how sorry I ought to be?”

 

Spike entered the room, brushing past her. “Would it do any good?”

 

“Look, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Faith retorted. “This is a war. You’ve got casualties in war.”

 

Spike regarded her with a steady gaze that Faith couldn’t hold. “You’re right,” he finally said. “There’s always going to be collateral damage, but there’s such a thing as remorse.”

 

“What good is that going to do me or him?”

 

“None for him, but you’d be surprised what it’ll do for you.” Spike shrugged. “That’s your business. You feel what you feel. Nothing anyone says is going to change that.”

 

She tossed her head, still defiant. “That’s right.”

 

“Came to tell you to get out of town,” Spike continued. “The police are going to be looking at you pretty hard.”

 

Faith sneered. “So you’re ready to get rid of me, is that it?”

 

“Figured you’d want to be gone,” Spike replied. “We both know you don’t want to wind up in custody. And we both know they can’t keep you if you don’t want to be kept.”

 

“Damn straight,” Faith replied. Her eyes were still suspicious. “You want me to run so I take the heat off your precious Buffy, is that it?”

 

Spike stared at her. “I never made any secret of the fact that Buffy was my first priority,” he shot back. “I did what I could for you, Faith. If you’re going to be a bitch because I didn’t sleep with you, that’s your problem.”

 

The silence that fell was not pleasant, and Spike knew that the Slayer was fighting the urge to strike back. “You really don’t think that’s going to work, do you?” Faith asked finally. “This won’t last. It can’t.”

 

“Maybe,” Spike allowed. “But it doesn’t matter.”

 

“Doesn’t it?”

 

“Not to me.” Spike shrugged. “Never been all that smart about who I love.”

 

Their eyes met, and a glimmer of understanding hummed between them. If things had gone differently, that moment might have made all the difference in the world.

 

Too bad things didn’t go differently.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy was getting worried. Spike was supposed to meet her more than an hour ago, and he still hadn’t shown up. They were going to patrol, and then had made a tentative agreement to go to the Bronze afterwards.

 

She wanted to have some fun with her boyfriend for a change.

 

It wasn’t like Spike to be this late, and Buffy wasn’t quite sure where she was supposed to find him. She had already tried calling his cell phone, but there was no answer, which just heightened her anxiety. Giles had finally retreated to his office to get away from her pacing.

 

“Buffy?”

 

She turned to see Wesley standing just inside the doors of the library. “What is it?”

 

He winced at her short tone, and Buffy noticed that his jaw was beginning to swell. “What happened?”

 

“I called the Council,” he admitted in a low tone.

 

Buffy stiffened. “I thought—” She stopped, remembering who it was she was speaking to. “Never mind. Where is she?”

 

“She got away,” Wesley replied. “I—she escaped.”

 

Giles emerged from his office. “What are you talking about?”

 

Wesley nearly flinched at the ice in the other Watcher’s tone. “I called the Council. They were going to take her back to England for rehabilitation, but she managed to escape.”

 

“Great,” Buffy muttered. “Where is Spike? We could split up and—”

 

“I know where Spike is.”

 

It was Wesley’s tone of voice that stopped her cold. “Did you hurt him?” she demanded. “Because if you did—”

 

“He’s unhurt,” Wesley hastened to assure her.

 

Buffy glared at him. “Where is he?”

 

“At Faith’s hotel room,” Wesley replied. “In order to apprehend Faith, we had to incapacitate him.”

 

“Dammit!” Buffy swore. She needed to find Faith, and fast. Buffy knew that the other Slayer was probably feeling betrayed right about now, and for good reason. She didn’t have time to make sure Spike was okay.

 

“Buffy.” Giles even voice calmed her. “I’ll find Spike, and we can start looking for Faith from there. Where do you think Faith will be?”

 

“The docks,” Buffy said immediately. “She’s talked about it before. I’ll head there, and then you guys can—”

 

“We’ll look,” Giles promised.

 

“What about me?” Wesley asked. “I want to help.”

 

Buffy glared at him as she walked out. “Do you still have your ticket back to the mother country?”

 

~~~~~

 

Mayor Wilkins was not a happy camper. Not only had there been two Slayers in the building, but that Spike character was with them. They most certainly knew that he was up to something, and he’d wanted to keep them in the dark up until the Ascension.

 

There were still a few key things that had to happen, and if the Slayers got in his way, well, that would certainly be unfortunate.

 

“Not one, but two Slayers,” the Mayor commented, rewinding the tape. “And a souled vampire. Do you know how unhappy this makes me, Mr. Trick?”

 

“We had a guard,” Trick protested, knowing it was a weak excuse.

 

The Mayor held up a hand for silence. “This is my favorite part. This is where they see that I’m a thief, and probably a whole lot more.” He leaned back in his chair. “What are we going to do about it?”

 

Trick frowned. “Well, they can’t do much from a jail cell.”

 

The Mayor waved his hand, dismissing that idea completely. “We don’t have nearly enough evidence for that. No, I think you need to do something a little more permanent. And I want that vampire taken care of. He’s worn out his welcome.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike had never been so humiliated in his unlife. In his line of work he couldn’t afford to let anyone get the drop on him, and he’d let the Council wankers truss him up like a Christmas goose.

 

In his own defense, they’d hit him with a taser blast before he had even registered they were through the door. Still, it was humiliating.

 

It was worse not to be able to free himself.

 

“Spike!” Giles’ voice came from somewhere above him just before a pair of feet appeared before his eyes. “Are you alright?”

 

“Do I bloody look alright?” Spike demanded. “Those sodding bastards—” Now that he had an audience, Spike let loose all the creative profanity he’d been thinking up over the last few hours.

 

Giles knelt down beside him. “Do you have a knife?”

 

“Not on me,” Spike admitted sullenly.

 

Giles sighed. “Well, this might take a while then.”

 

It took longer than either of them wanted. When Spike was finally free of the ropes and netting, he stood. “Where’s Faith?”

 

“Buffy went after her,” Giles replied. “The Council didn’t manage to retain custody for long.”

 

Spike sneered. “Of course they didn’t. Bunch of idiots, that git Wesley in the fore. When I get my hands on him…”

 

Giles gave him a warning look. “Killing Wesley won’t do any good.”

 

“It’ll make me feel better,” Spike muttered, looking around the hotel room. “I wanted to help her, Rupert.”

 

Giles grimaced. “You did the best you could, Spike.”

 

“You do realize that this is going to send her over the edge, don’t you?”

 

“It might not,” Giles temporized. “Perhaps this will turn out.”

 

“You don’t believe that any more than I do,” Spike replied.

 

“What were you doing here, Spike?”

 

“Trying to convince Faith to leave town,” Spike admitted candidly. “Figured it might be best to get her out of here. She’s jealous of Buffy, and as long as she feels like she’s playing second fiddle, she won’t be happy.”

 

Giles frowned. “Do you really think it’s wise to send Faith out on her own?”

 

“Not now,” Spike replied. “I thought I was getting somewhere before the Council goons showed up. At this point, it’s hard to say what the girl will do.”

 

~~~~~

 

Faith had saved Buffy from getting eaten by Trick, although she wasn’t quite sure she’d actually wanted to. It had been reflex more than anything else. After all, if Buffy died, it would leave Faith the Chosen One.

 

The way things were at the moment, Faith knew that she would always be in Buffy’s shadow. They were all Buffy’s friends, Buffy’s mom, Buffy’s Watcher.

 

Buffy’s boyfriend.

 

Even though Faith didn’t typically think much of guys in general, she knew Spike’s type. She’d seen a few, but they generally didn’t go for girls like her. They wanted somebody like Buffy.

 

Everybody wanted somebody like Buffy. Faith was the troublemaker, the rabble-rouser. Her kind wasn’t wanted.

 

Except on the rare occasion when she was.

 

Faith figured that the Mayor might just be her shot at doing something that was only about her, where she was valued for her unique skill-set. She recognized in the Mayor the same values that she’d grown up with—want, take, have. That was the only way you could get ahead in this world. Do-gooders like Buffy and Spike would eventually get screwed over and probably killed. Faith was determined not to let that happen to her.

 

If the Mayor was the major player in town, Faith wanted to be on his team.

 

She figured it was only right. She’d killed a man, and you didn’t go back from something like that. It was time she joined the side she’d always been meant for.

 

After all, Faith had always been bad.

 

~~~~~

 

“So is everything okay with Faith?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy shrugged. “The police haven’t been calling. Spike said they probably didn’t have enough evidence to make an arrest.”

 

Willow tried to appear positive. “Well, that’s good.”

 

“You don’t sound all that approving.”

 

“I just don’t think it would have hurt if Faith left town,” Willow replied. “She killed somebody, Buffy. If you hadn’t told Spike, I don’t think she would have told anybody.”

 

Buffy looked uncomfortable. “Well, maybe things will be better now. It’s all out in the open.”

 

“What about you and Spike?”

 

“What about us?” Buffy asked, frowning. They had taken their discussion outside to the school lawn, and Buffy was trying to get some crunches done. Wesley had pulled out his tests, probably trying to figure out how to make sure that one of his Slayers didn’t kill somebody again. Buffy wanted to make sure she was just as good as Faith.

 

Competition was healthy. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

 

“How’s the dating thing?” Willow asked.

 

“What dating thing?” Buffy asked. “If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Spike is completely focused on the slaying, too. I mean, we patrol together, but I just want to spend time with him, without having to worry about a monster jumping out of the bushes.” She saw the floating pencil doing a slow spin. “Hey, that’s great!”

 

“It’s all about the control,” Willow said, grinning. “Why don’t you go out tonight? There’s nothing going on, right?”

 

Buffy huffed. “Mandatory dinner with Mom. After the thing with the police, she’s insisting on lots of bonding time.”

 

Willow frowned. “Ask her to ask Spike,” she suggested. “She likes him, so it won’t be that big of a deal.”

 

Buffy flopped back on the grass. “I guess that’s better than nothing. I thought dating Spike was going to be easier, since he knew about me being the Slayer. Instead, it’s harder, because we’re always doing Slayer things. I’m tired of having to mix business with pleasure. I want my pleasure unadulterated.”

 

“I hear you,” Willow agreed, thinking of Oz. If she didn’t get regular Oz-time, she was one cranky witch. It was no wonder that Buffy wasn’t a happy camper.

 

Buffy pushed herself up off the ground. “I’ll see you later, Will. I’m going to go do some laps in the pool.”

 

Willow watched her go, turning her focus back on her pencil. Maybe she should go talk to Spike, let him know that he should try doing something special with Buffy. It couldn’t hurt to give him a heads up.


	29. Chapter 29

**“The fire for light, a rancorous moon for bread,/the jasmine smearing around its bruised secrets:/then from a terrifying love, soft white hands/poured peace into my eyes and sun into my senses./O love, how quickly you built a sweet/firmness where the wounds had been!/You fought off the talons and claws, and now/we stand as a single life before the world…then there will be no you, no me, no light,/and yet beyond the earth, beyond its shadowy dark, the splendor of our love will be alive.” ~Pablo Neruda “Sonnet XXIII”**

 

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was in over his head. He just didn’t want to admit it.

 

When the Council had sent him to Sunnydale, it was with the understanding that whatever had gone wrong was solely the fault of Giles’ unconventional methods. Travers had told him that Giles had sold out as a Watcher, that he was obviously too weak to deal with the challenges of handling a Slayer. The idea was that if Wesley did exactly what he was trained to do, everything would go according to plan.

 

Instead, Wesley had found himself in series of unpredictable situations—situations in which his Council training didn’t seem to apply. Faith had killed a man, Buffy was dating a myth, and Wesley had discovered that Giles, for all of his unorthodox tactics, seemed to know what he was talking about.

 

The only bright spot was Miss Cordelia Chase, and he knew that a relationship with a student would not only be unwise but also rather unethical.

 

Still, a man could appreciate a beautiful girl who seemed to appreciate him in return.

 

The knock that came at his apartment door startled him. Wesley certainly hadn’t been expecting anyone, and there wasn’t anybody he was aware of who would visit. Without thinking about it, he called out, “Come in.”

 

“You know, it’s probably not a good idea to issue an invitation when you don’t know who’s at the door.

 

The voice sent chills down his spine, and Wesley quickly looked around for any means of escape as Spike sauntered inside. “Spike, I—”

 

“I imagine you’ve been expecting me,” Spike said. “After all, a bloke doesn’t forget who was responsible for trussing him up.”

 

Wesley realized that his only viable avenue of exit was the front door, and he’d have to get around Spike for that. Besides, now that the vampire had an invitation to his apartment, he could enter any time he wished. “There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

 

“Let’s hear it,” Spike said, sprawling on the second-hand couch Wesley had purchased.

 

Wesley was taken aback by the vampire’s rather cordial invitation. “I, uh, you see—” He straightened his shoulders. “It was my duty to inform the Council of Faith’s actions and her inability to take responsibility.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why was it your duty?” Spike raised an eyebrow. “You’re out in the field now. What the Council doesn’t know certainly won’t hurt them. You and Rupert could have worked together to take care of the situation.”

 

Wesley frowned. “Mr. Giles was relieved of his duties.”

 

“Rupert acted in his Slayer’s best interests. I thought that’s what a Watcher was supposed to do.” Spike watched as his words sank into Wesley’s thick skull. The poor git had been spoon-fed duty and responsibility for so long, he’d probably never made an independent decision.

 

In fact, Spike would bet his Mustang that Wesley had never been _allowed_ to make an independent decision. That was probably why he’d been chosen to come to Sunnydale.

 

“A Watcher’s duty is to his Slayer and the Council,” Wesley said, sounding as though he was reciting by rote memory, which he was.

 

“And when those duties are in conflict?” Spike asked shrewdly.

 

Wesley shook himself, wondering if Spike was trying to put some kind of thrall over him. His duty was to the Council. There was always a reason behind their actions.

 

 _Always?_ The little voice inside his head questioned.

 

When Spike didn’t get a reply, he simply nodded. “I told you, Wesley, I’m going to keep you alive so you’ve got a decent chance at learning to think for yourself. Not sure why I feel it’s necessary. I’ve killed people for less than what you did to me.”

 

Wesley tried not to give away the fact that he was quaking in his loafers. “You could try.”

 

Spike chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what I like about you, mate. You’ve got stones somewhere in there.” He stood up, coming close to the other man. “Let me make this very clear, however. Buffy’s my responsibility. You thought you were doing the best thing for Faith, but if you ever pull that sort of thing on Buffy, I’ll kill you, and it won’t be quick.”

 

Wesley managed to hold himself upright until the front door closed behind Spike, and then he slid down the wall, resting his forehead on his knees. He had no doubt that Spike not only meant what he said, but also that he would make good on his threat.

 

There was no doubt about it. Wesley was in over his head.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike had made the trip by the Watcher’s place on his way to have dinner with Joyce and Buffy. While he’d been pissed as hell about Wesley’s betrayal, he’d given himself some time to calm down and had come to the decision that the idiot was merely doing what he knew how to do.

 

There was no sense in getting angry when a cat killed a mouse, just like there was no sense in getting angry when a deer froze in the headlights of your car. Of course, that didn’t mean Wesley couldn’t change his nature. Spike figured he’d give the Watcher a chance. After that, he’d kill him.

 

Well, he probably wouldn’t kill him, but he’d make sure that Wesley learned his lesson.

 

It wasn’t that he liked the man. Hardly. It was just that Spike remembered what it was like to not fit inside his own skin, or to fit in with anybody else. He could afford to feel some sympathy for him.

 

Dinner was pleasant, although Spike was getting the sense that Buffy wasn’t very happy. He didn’t know if it had to do with him, or if it was something else entirely. When she followed him out to the back porch for an after-dinner smoke, he asked her about it.

 

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “You know, Wesley’s just pulling out the tests. I didn’t think you could get tested over all that stuff.”

 

“You talked to Faith recently?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy shrugged. “I see her, we say hi. I don’t know if you could actually say that we talk.” She glanced over at him. “What about you? Have you talked to her?”

 

“No,” Spike replied mildly, sensing the danger. “Don’t have anything to say to her.” Buffy nodded, but the faint light of discontent didn’t go away. “You’d tell me if there was something wrong, wouldn’t you?” Spike asked.

 

“What?” Buffy asked, glancing over at him. “Oh, sure.”

 

Spike wasn’t quite sure he bought that.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow shifted from foot to foot, wondering if this was a good idea. It was just that she knew that Buffy was probably going to try to get to the Bronze that night, and it would be a really good time for Spike to prove himself to be good boyfriend material.

 

Plus, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to catch him any other time. He was usually out patrolling at night, and there were always other people around when they were at the library.

 

The door opened soon after her first timid knock, however, and Spike greeted her cheerfully enough. “Red? What are you doing here?”

 

“I—I need to talk to you,” she said, steeling herself.

 

He raised an eyebrow but waved her inside. “Can I help you with something?”

 

“Buffy’s not happy,” Willow blurted out, her carefully prepared speech flying right out of her head.

 

Spike frowned. “Yeah? What’s up? Noticed that something was off when we had dinner last night, but she wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“That’s because it’s you.” At the expression on Spike’s face, Willow quickly backpedaled. “Oh! I didn’t mean she doesn’t like you. It’s just that you guys haven’t done anything fun.”

 

“Fun?” Spike ran a hand through his hair. “What do you mean?” He started wandering towards the kitchen. “Coffee?”

 

“No thanks,” Willow replied. “You guys don’t, you know, date.”

 

Spike looked completely bewildered. “Don’t think I understand.”

 

Willow’s eyes narrowed. “How long has it been since you’ve been on a date, Spike?” His silence was answer enough. “Have you _ever_ been on a date?”

 

If vampires could blush, Spike certainly would have. “No,” he mumbled. “Never got the bleeding chance.”

 

Willow suddenly felt tremendously sorry for him. “Oh, well, you just need a few pointers then.”

 

“Didn’t know I was doing it wrong,” Spike muttered. “You’d think Buffy would have said something.”

 

“You’re not doing it wrong!” Willow assured him. “Buffy’s not unhappy with you. It’s more circumstances, you know, because you guys don’t have any time to do couple-y things.” At Spike’s blank look, Willow sighed. “Buffy’s going to be at the Bronze tonight. Did she say anything about that?”

 

Spike frowned. “Yeah, I think she said something about going. I figured she would want me to patrol or something for her.”

 

It was a sweet thought, but Willow knew that Buffy would probably appreciate dancing with her boyfriend a little more. “Why not skip patrol for the night?” she suggested gently.

 

Spike frowned. “What am I supposed to do?”

 

“Show up, hang out, maybe dance,” she suggested. “Ask her if she wants something to drink. Just be there.”

 

“And that’ll make Buffy happy?” Spike asked, sounding none too sure of that.

 

Willow sighed. “Spike, you really need to learn to have some fun.”

 

Spike gave her an exasperated look. “I know how to have fun.”

 

“Fine, then learn how Buffy likes to have fun,” Willow chided gently. “Trust me, it’ll make her really happy if you show up at the Bronze tonight for something other than killing the bad guys.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Fine. If it’ll make her happy.”

 

Willow grinned at him. “Sleep tight, Spike,” she said as she left.

 

Spike waited until she was gone before saying, “Haven’t slept in weeks, Red. Don’t know why I’d want to start now.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike still wasn’t quite sure what Buffy expected of him. He had told Buffy that he was all in, and that was the truth. When Spike said something like that, he meant it with his whole being.

 

He had been honest with Willow, however. Spike had never “dated” anybody. Even Anouk, who was probably the closest thing to a girlfriend he’d ever had—not including Drusilla—wasn’t somebody he’d done much with besides have sex and the occasional conversation that wasn’t work-related.

 

So trying to figure out what exactly one did with a human girlfriend, and a young one at that, was more than a bit challenging. While Willow’s suggestion that he just show up and hang out appeared simple enough on the surface, Spike wasn’t all that certain. If this was supposed to be a date, did he need to wear something special? Should he bring flowers? Were they past that stage, or had they not reached it yet?

 

What the bloody hell was he supposed to do other than keep her safe? It was a question he didn’t have an answer to.

 

Still, he didn’t doubt that Willow knew what she was talking about when she told him to show up at the Bronze. When he arrived around nine, it was with a feeling of nervousness that he hadn’t experienced in decades, which was utterly ridiculous. After all, Spike _knew_ Buffy. He had no reason to be nervous.

 

Spike saw Oz on the stage setting up with no small measure of relief. He wondered if the boy had any advice on this dating thing. Oz, at least, seemed to be keeping Willow happy.

 

“Hey, Spike,” Oz greeted him. “You looking for Buffy?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Your girl said I should show up tonight. Something about me not having enough fun.”

 

Amusement flitted subtly through his eyes. “She should talk.”

 

The vampire smiled. “Yeah. You seen the Slayer?”

 

Oz shook his head. “No, but she said she’d show. I doubt you’ll have to wait too long.”

 

There was a loud bang from the front, and both Oz and Spike looked up to see a gang of vampires strolling in. “Bloody hell,” Spike muttered.

 

“This doesn’t look good.”

 

Spike’s left hand twitched towards his jacket pocket where he’d stuck a stake. It was the only weapon he had, though, and there were at least ten vamps. “No, it doesn’t,” he agreed.

 

“Can you get out of here?” Oz asked. “Get Buffy?”

 

Spike frowned. “Not sure I should leave,” he objected. There was no telling how much damage the vampires could do in his absence, and the idea of leaving Oz at their mercy galled him.

 

“With odds like that, it could get pointless,” Oz murmured.

 

Spike was about to shake his head, deciding that he could do more good on his own than if he left to get Buffy, when Willow walked in.

 

Willow, who was only too obviously a vampire.

 

Willow, his friend.

 

There was steel in Oz’s voice when he spoke. “Get Buffy.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy had never really thought about what it would mean to lose one of her friends. She might be the Slayer, and therefore likely to die an early death, but that didn’t apply to Xander or Willow. Of course, she knew that Jesse had been turned, knew that Xander had been forced to dust the thing that was left, but she hadn’t _known_ Jesse.

 

Not like she knew Willow.

 

The very idea that Willow wouldn’t be around, that Buffy would never be able to talk to her again, that they’d never go for another mocha, it was like the world had stopped spinning.

 

The relief she felt when Willow came walking through the doors of the library was very nearly overwhelming.

 

Once the hugging had been taken care of, they all sat down. Willow was feeling much less rebellious at this point, knowing that there was a vampire-version of her out on the town. All day she’d been thinking up strategies for getting people to see her less as dependable-Willow and more as fun-Willow. Now she was thinking that dependable might be okay as long as she wasn’t a vampire.

 

Although, maybe vampire-Willow was dependable—about killing people.

 

“I don’t like the idea that there’s a vampire out there who looks like me,” Willow said.

 

Buffy shook her head emphatically. “Not looks like you, Will. _Is_ you, right down to the last detail. Except for you not being a dominatrix.” She paused. “Unless there’s something we don’t know.”

 

Willow grimaced and rolled her eyes. “Oh, right. Oz and I play Mistress of Pain every night.”

 

There was a long silence as _that_ mental image hit them all at the same time. “Did anybody else just go to a scary place?” Xander asked.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Buffy said, as Giles shook his head, trying to get rid of it.

 

Willow frowned. “I just don’t understand why—oh!”

 

“What, oh?” Giles asked.

 

Willow winced. “Oh, uh, I think I know why the vampire’s here. I did a bad thing.”

 

Before she could explain that she’d delved into the black arts with Anya—and had apparently botched it—Spike came running into the library. “Buffy! We need you down at the Bronze. It’s—” He stopped cold, staring at Willow, who gave him a timid wave. “Willow?”

 

“Hey.”

 

For a moment, Willow really thought Spike was going to hug her, but then he was all business again. “There’s a gang of vampires at the Bronze, and they’re looking to do some damage.” Spike frowned, still trying to process what his senses were telling him. There was Willow, alive and human. In pink. Breathing. “And one of them looks a lot like Red here.”

 

Xander patted him on the shoulder. “I know. We saw her earlier.”

 

Buffy made a face. “It wasn’t fun.” She looked at her friend. “You were saying?”

 

Willow sighed. She had really hoped she wouldn’t have to explain. “That new girl Anya? She wanted me to help her with a spell. I think that’s what brought vampire-me here.”

 

Giles frowned. “Willow—”

 

“I know!” she quickly said. “Bad Willow. It’s just that I wanted to do something, and—never mind.”

 

Spike shook his head. “We don’t have time for this. Those vamps meant business.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Spike’s right. We need to stop the feeding frenzy before we do anything else. How many were there?” she asked Spike.

 

“Eight or ten at the most,” Spike replied. “Enough so that I didn’t like the odds, especially—”

 

Buffy nodded, knowing what he wasn’t saying. “Okay, let’s go.”

 

“Uh, guys?” Willow called, stopping them. “What are you going to do with her?”

 

Spike and Buffy exchanged looks. “I don’t know, Will,” the Slayer replied. “I think right now we just have to concentrate on stopping her.”

 

Willow nodded. “Oh, right.” They all turned towards the door again, and she called out after them, “You go on! I just have to get something.”

 

The tranquilizer gun was behind the library counter. Willow thought that if they could knock her doppelganger out, she might have enough time to figure out how to send her back. It only seemed fair, since she was the one who had brought the vampire here in the first place.

 

She sighed. The day had started out so well, too. Spike had seemed receptive, if bewildered, after their talk. He’d obviously taken her advice and had shown up at the Bronze. Good thing, too. Otherwise, who knew when they would have known about vampire-Willow taking over.

 

But then Snyder had ordered her to do Percy’s homework, and Percy had been a real jerk about it—not appreciative at all. And Xander and Buffy kept talking about how reliable she was, and Oz hadn’t told her about his gig because he didn’t think she would want to miss school. Willow knew she wasn’t _that_ boring.

 

Was she?

 

Anyway, after all of that, she’d been all too willing to help Anya with her spell, especially knowing that Giles would not approve. Just then, she’d wanted to do something to show everybody that there was more to her than Reliable Willow. That she too could be unpredictable. That she wouldn’t let people walk all over her.

 

All she’d managed to do was to pull a vampire version of herself out of some weird alternate dimension. Yeah, that was real smooth.

 

Willow sighed as she reached over the counter, trying to get the tranquilizer gun. She couldn’t quite reach it from that angle, and so she started going around.

 

She was just going to have to put things right, she thought, as a strong hand clamped down over her mouth, and a very familiar voice spoke.

 

“Alone at last.”


	30. Chapter 30

**“If thou must love me, let it be for nought/Except for love’s sake only. Do not say/‘I love her for her smile—her look—her way/Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought/That falls in well with mind, and certes brought/A sense of pleasant ease on such a day’—/For these things in themselves, Beloved, may/Be changed, or change for thee,—and love so wrought/ May by unwrought so. Neither love me for/Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,—/A creature might forget to weep, who bore/Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!/ But love me for love’s sake, that evermore/Thou mayst love on, through love’s eternity.” ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “Sonnet 14”**

 

They were still waiting for Willow outside the school. She’d said she would be right along, but Spike was beginning to think about going back in after her. “So what were you doing at the Bronze tonight?” Buffy asked him.

 

Spike glanced over at her, suddenly feeling the need for a cigarette. “Went to see you,” he replied, lighting up.

 

Buffy took his arm, tugging him away from Giles and Xander. “You were going to see me?”

 

“Yeah,” Spike replied, wondering if that wasn’t a good enough reason for him to be at the Bronze. “Look, I, uh, know we haven’t gotten to spend much time together lately, but—” He took a deep, unnecessary breath. “You have to tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I’ve—I’ve never dated anybody before,” he admitted in a low voice. “I don’t know how this is supposed to work.”

 

“I don’t—” Buffy stopped, realizing what exactly Spike was saying. “Nobody?” When he shrugged, obviously unwilling to go into further detail, she sighed. “Okay. Well, then, I guess we start with the basics.”

 

“And those are?”

 

“Do you like movies?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

 

“Dancing?”

 

“I guess.”

 

“Being with me?”

 

“You know I do.”

 

“Those are the basics,” Buffy said. “Anything else, we make up as we go along.”

 

Spike eyed her. “Then what was Willow doing at my place this morning telling me you weren’t very happy?”

 

“Willow did that?” Buffy asked, frowning. “We talked the other day, and I admitted that I wasn’t happy, but that was because I wasn’t getting to spend enough time with you.” She took a step closer to him. “The time we have spent together in the last few weeks is all dealing with emergencies, and now with the Mayor on the bad guy list, I don’t think that’s going to get better anytime soon.”

 

Spike’s hand found hers. “You know you’re important to me, right?”

 

“I think I’ve been getting that vibe,” Buffy replied. “Same goes here. The last few months—I don’t know what—”

 

“Hey, guys?” Willow’s voice cut off the rest of Buffy’s words. “I think maybe the plan has changed.”

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley knew it was late, but his apartment felt too empty to stay there. Besides, there was always more research to be done, more history on the Hellmouth to peruse.

 

The scream came just as he reached the library doors, and there was a part of him that wanted to run the other direction. He squashed that part fairly quickly, however, dropping his briefcase and running towards the screams, rather than away from them.

 

He didn’t have a stake, but he did have a cross and a vial of holy water, and those would have to do. There was no time to retrieve any other weapons.

 

The scream came again, and Wesley realized that it was coming from inside one of the girls’ restrooms. He barreled through the door, managing to get himself between the vampire and Cordelia, holding the cross up in what he hoped was a threatening manner. “Back, creature of the night!” The vampire gave him a dirty look, and he summoned up the last dregs of courage. “Leave this place!”

 

“Don’t wanna,” the vampire—who looked startlingly like Willow—replied.

 

Wesley fumbled in his jacket pocket for the holy water and shoved it at her. The vampire sighed and turned. “Fine. Whatever.”

 

He heaved a huge sigh of relief when he realized that she really was leaving. The relief was short-lived, however. The hand on his shoulder had him shrieking and spinning around, ready to face the next threat.

 

Which was apparently Cordelia.

 

“I’m sorry,” Cordelia said apologetically.

 

Wesley shook his head. “No, it’s fine, really. Men in battle. On edge, all of that.” He wasn’t sure that was very convincing, and so he quickly changed the subject. “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” Cordelia replied. “Thanks to you!”

 

It was the first time a woman had ever literally thrown her arms around him, but Wesley couldn’t say that he minded. Her approval felt good. It was the first time somebody had been happy to have him around since he arrived in Sunnydale.

 

“Oh, uh, well, happy to be of service,” Wesley managed to stutter out once Cordelia had pulled away. He frowned. “Was that—”

 

“Willow?” Cordelia finished for him. “Yeah. They must have gotten her.” She looked him up and down, liking what she saw. She’d come to the school to try and find Wesley anyway. It looked like her night wasn’t going to be completely pointless. “So, are you doing anything tonight?”

 

Wesley stared at her, wondering if perhaps he shouldn’t be doing something about the vampire. Then, he realized that Buffy probably didn’t want him interfering anyway. “No, I wasn’t doing anything at all.”

 

~~~~~

 

“You look good.”

 

Willow glanced over at Spike, who had fallen into step next to her. They had parked a couple blocks away from the Bronze, not wanting the sound of the cars to give away their approach. “Don’t lie.”

 

“Wasn’t lying,” Spike said, smiling. “Won’t say that look suits you, but you look good.”

 

Willow was quiet for a moment. “Do you think Oz is okay?”

 

“Sure he is,” Spike replied. “Boy’s sharp, and not so big that he’s going to present an easy target.”

 

That got a smile out of Willow. “Yeah, I guess.” She was surprised to feel a hand on her arm, and she turned to meet Spike’s eyes. “What is it, Spike?”

 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he finally said, unable to think of another way to say it. The idea that he would have had to stake Willow—well, it turned his stomach.

 

She smiled at him. “Me too.”

 

They were outside the Bronze now, and Willow adjusted her top. “Okay, here we go.”

 

“Play it safe, Will,” Buffy told her. “If you get any idea at all that they’ve figured out what’s going on, give the signal, and we’ll be there.”

 

“I promise I won’t do anything that could be remotely interpreted as brave.” Willow straightened her shoulders.

 

“What’s the signal?” Xander asked.

 

“Me screaming,” Willow replied, heading inside.

 

Giles and Xander headed around to the back of the Bronze, while Buffy and Spike stayed out front. The plan was for Willow to go in, impersonate her evil twin, and send as many vampires outside onto their waiting stakes as possible.

 

“I meant it, you know,” Buffy said quietly, her eyes trained on the door.

 

Spike glanced over at her, keeping his voice just as low. “Meant what?”

 

“What I said earlier.”

 

“I don’t think you got to finish it.”

 

“About not knowing what I’d do without you around,” Buffy said softly. “I meant it.”

 

“You’d have managed,” Spike replied. “Maybe not all that well, but you’d have been okay.”

 

Buffy watched as the door opened and a vampire came out, looking from left to right. Spike’s hand shot out of the shadows and grabbed him, holding on tightly so Buffy could stake him. When the dust had settled, Buffy took up the conversation again. “Maybe, but I’m glad I didn’t have to manage without you.”

 

There was a long silence, and Spike said quietly. “I don’t know how to do this, luv. Haven’t felt like this in a very long time, and I’m not sure I like it.”

 

Buffy thought she might understand what Spike was saying. It was hard to feel as though you had no idea what was coming next, or what your next move might be. With Angel, it hadn’t really mattered. Rather, she hadn’t given it much thought. Now Buffy knew that life had a tendency to throw curve balls at you, things you weren’t prepared to deal with.

 

She understood, but she didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know what we’re going to do any more than you do, Spike.”

 

Spike’s hand found hers and squeezed briefly. “Guess we probably ought to stick together then.”

 

“I guess so.”

 

They turned as one to face the next vampire that emerged from the building. It was always business before pleasure.

 

~~~~~

 

“What are we doing?”

 

The words were whispered into the darkness of a bedroom, and they held a note of anxiety that Giles didn’t like to hear, even though he understood. He had no idea what they were doing himself. “I think we’re enjoying one another’s company.”

 

Joyce blinked at the sudden light from the lamp he switched on. “Do you think we should tell Buffy?”

 

They had been meeting at least a few times every week, sometimes at Joyce’s house, but more often at Giles’. One memorable tryst had been held in the back room of the gallery after hours. He made her feel young and irresponsible again. He made her feel like a woman, instead of just Buffy’s mom.

 

She didn’t want to give this up, but she wasn’t sure she should try to hang onto it either.

 

“Do you want to tell Buffy?” Giles asked, suddenly terribly afraid that Joyce was going to break things off. They hadn’t spoken of their feelings for one another. Giles knew that he was very fond of Joyce, and he thought she might care for him. On the other hand, he knew that Joyce took her role as Buffy’s mother as seriously as he took his role as Watcher.

 

Joyce sighed. “Honestly? No, I don’t, mostly because I’m afraid of what it’ll do to your relationship with her.”

 

Giles blinked. “What about your relationship?”

 

“I’m her mother, Rupert,” Joyce reminded him. “We will always have a relationship. I imagine she’ll get over my betrayal fairly quickly.”

 

“Do you really think she’ll see it as a betrayal?” Giles asked in surprise. He didn’t think Buffy would be thrilled, exactly, but that was a rather harsh way of putting things.

 

Joyce just smiled. “It would be a reminder that you and I are people. That’s never something a child is happy to discover.”

 

He hadn’t thought of it that way. “I suppose you’re right. So what do you want to do?” Giles swallowed hard. “Do you—do you want to end this?”

 

“Are you kidding?” Joyce asked incredulously. “I’ve felt more alive these last few months than I have in years. I’m not giving it up. It might be selfish, but so be it.”

 

Giles laughed softly in relief. “That’s quite reassuring, since I feel much the same way.”

 

“I really do care for you.”

 

“I was just thinking the same thing myself,” Giles responded, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. “So we’re not going to tell Buffy?”

 

“I was thinking about waiting until she goes off to college,” Joyce replied with a smile.

 

Giles returned it. “That sounds like a plan.”

 

~~~~~

 

Oz had been completely unwilling to leave her side, although Willow really didn’t mind. Her parents were out of town, so it wasn’t like she had to worry about getting caught with a boy in her room.

 

She lay with her head on his chest, listening to the slow, steady thumping of his heart. She’d been so glad to see him in the Bronze, knowing that he was in one piece and safe. Willow wondered if his heart had threatened to burst out of his chest as hers had, wondering when the vampires would catch on that she wasn’t who she said she was.

 

“You were really brave tonight.”

 

His words echoed strangely through his chest and in her head. “Not really.”

 

“Trust me on this.”

 

“Okay.” Willow would trust Oz with anything. “I was really scared knowing you were in there.”

 

“I don’t know what I would have done if that had really been you.”

 

Willow clutched him tightly. “Do you really think I have that in me, Oz?”

 

“Have what in you?” he asked, not quite understanding.

 

“Being—that.” Willow didn’t know how to put it. “You know, being evil.”

 

“You?” he asked. Oz actually looked incredulous. “Are you kidding me?”

 

Willow made a face. “It’s just—she was me.”

 

Oz was silent for a minute. “Willow, that wasn’t you. I don’t know anyone less evil.”

 

“Thanks.” Willow put her head back down, listening to the steady beat of Oz’s heart. “Thanks for staying tonight.”

 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy watched as Spike shot up from his kitchen table. Giles had insisted on meeting them both here, away from the library and any prying eyes or ears. It was yet another evening where they were supposed to be out together, trying to get a handle on this dating thing, and now this.

 

“I won’t,” Spike said flatly.

 

Giles frowned. “Spike, I realize that this is difficult for you, but—”

 

“I told you that I bloody well won’t do it!” Spike was nearly shouting, and Buffy didn’t think she’d ever seen him this worked up. “We’ll find another way to get the information.”

 

“Giles, if Faith tries to take Spike’s soul, we’ll know she’s working for the Mayor,” Buffy pointed out, wanting to give the vampire a chance to calm down. “Like he says, we can find another way to get the rest of it.”

 

Giles stood. “This might be our best chance,” he argued. Turning to Spike, he said, “I’m sure you’ve done things like this in the past. I don’t see why—”

 

“Because I’m not doing it,” Spike said roughly. “You asked, and I’m answering. No.”

 

“Giles,” Buffy said, shaking her head when it looked like he was going to try and argue some more. “Maybe you should go.”

 

Giles didn’t want to leave, not before he had Spike’s agreement, but he also knew that there was no way that they could force Spike to do something like this against his will. He had to be willing, or there was nothing they could do.

 

“Fine. I’ll see you both tomorrow sometime.” He walked out, the front door closing behind him just loudly enough to make his displeasure obvious.

 

Buffy was silent, watching Spike as he paced around the small space. “What’s going on, Spike?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

It was almost a growl, and Buffy knew that he was on edge and angry. She stood, and Spike stopped pacing. “Look, I—”

 

“You should go,” he said. “I’m not going to be good company tonight, Buffy. We’ll try this again some other time.”

 

“No.”

 

It was a single word, and it rocked Spike back on his heels. “What?”

 

“No. I’m not leaving. I came over here to spend time with you, and that’s what I’m going to do. If it means watching you pace, then I’ll watch you pace.”

 

Spike glared at her. “Buffy—”

 

“Tell me why you just about took Giles’ head off for suggesting you play-act losing your soul with Faith,” Buffy said. “Tell me that, and I’ll go home, if that’s what you really want.”

 

Spike shook his head. “No, Buffy, I—”

 

Buffy moved closer, touching his cheek with her hand. “Please, Spike. What’s wrong?”

 

“I can’t.” His eyes begged her to understand. “I just can’t. Do you know how long I worked to be sure I wouldn’t release that monster again? I wouldn’t even know how to act, not without—”

 

He broke off, and Buffy suddenly got it. Spike didn’t know how to pretend to be the monster without losing everything he’d worked for, without losing himself.

 

“Okay,” Buffy said quietly. “Was that really so hard?”

 

Spike pulled back, busying himself with the tea kettle. “You aren’t angry?”

 

“Why would I be?”

 

“You wanted me to do this,” he replied. “And I couldn’t.”

 

Buffy sighed. “There might come a time when you ask me to do something, and I won’t be able to,” she pointed out. “It’s hardly fair for me to hold that against you.”

 

Spike stilled. “I never wanted you to have to see that side of me, luv.”

 

“You think I haven’t?” Buffy asked quietly. “I’m not stupid, Spike. I know that you killed those guys that were hunting Faith and me. I know that there have probably been others you’ve killed because of the demon.”

 

“Because of the man,” Spike disagreed. “I knew what I was doing, Buffy. I made a choice, and—”

 

“You killed them.” Buffy raised her eyebrows. “I also know that you’d do it again in a heartbeat if you thought I was in danger.”

 

“Sooner, actually,” Spike replied.

 

“So I’ve seen it,” Buffy continued. “But if you don’t want to do this, then you don’t want to do this. I get that.”

 

He laughed. “Didn’t think you would take it this well.”

 

Buffy was quiet. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, Spike. I kept thinking that maybe, once this year was over, I could get out of Sunnydale, go to college, do a normal life.”

 

“You could,” Spike said. “You—”

 

“I’m the Slayer,” Buffy interrupted him. “There’s always going to be something. A new apocalypse, a new bad guy. The only thing that makes staying here truly bearable is the idea that you might be around.”

 

“You know I will be.”

 

“Even after the big end of the world thing?”

 

“Like you said, luv, there’s always something,” Spike pointed out.

 

She smiled at him. “So I figured that I had to be okay with you being who you are, or I had to decide that I wasn’t.”

 

Spike stared at her. “What did you decide?”

 

“Duh,” Buffy said. “That I wanted you around.” She moved to stand close to him again, her hand coming to rest where his heart would have been beating. “We’ve both got a job to do, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t human. Or people.” Buffy made a face. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Think I do.”

 

“It doesn’t mean that there are things that we won’t want to do, but we have to do. And sometimes there’ll be things that we don’t want to do, and then we’ll figure out a way around it.” Her eyes held a challenge. “We’re both really good at that.”

 

“Yes, we are.” Spike looked like he wanted to say something, but changed his mind, bending his head to kiss her. It soon grew more heated than any of their past embraces. “Buffy…”

 

She shook her head. “Don’t. I just want to be close to you.”

 

“You should get home. Your mom—”

 

“Won’t notice,” Buffy replied. “I told her I’d be out late and not to wait up. If she gets worried, she can call me here.”

 

“And then come after me,” Spike said wryly. “You sure about this?”

 

“I’m sure.” She pulled his head down again. “Really, really sure.”

 

After all, Spike was the guy she was in love with.


	31. Chapter 31

**“At length their long kiss severed, with sweet smart:/And as the last slow sudden drops are shed/From sparkling eaves when all the storm has shed/So singly flagged the pulses of each heart…Sleep sank them lower than the tide of dreams./And their dreams watched them sink, and slid away./Slowly their souls swam up again, through gleams/Of watered light and dull drowned waifs of day;/Till from some wonder of new woods and streams/He woke, and wondered more: for there she lay.” ~Dante Gabriel Rosetti, “Nuptial Sleep,” from _The House of Life_**

 

He woke slowly, with the sort of confusion that can only come from a deep and dreamless sleep. For a moment, he couldn’t quite remember his own name, let alone what day it was and why he was waking with a girl’s head pillowed on his chest.

 

Spike frowned. Dawn wasn’t far away; Buffy should probably be getting back home soon, if she wanted to sneak in before Joyce realized she’d been gone all night.

 

He had to bite back a groan when he realized exactly what had happened the night before. Everything had been going well, their explorations had taken them back into his bedroom, where he fully meant to give Buffy a night she wouldn’t forget, and—

 

Nothing. Spike couldn’t believe he’d actually fallen asleep on her.

 

He was such a git.

 

Buffy stirred slowly, a contented smile curving her lips. “Mmm…morning.”

 

“Good morning,” he replied, waiting to see if she was going to say anything to him about the night before.

 

She did give him a look. “Sleep good?”

 

He sighed. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

 

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” Buffy countered. When Spike shrugged, she just shook her head. “Then it’s good that you did. I know I slept better than I have in weeks.”

 

Spike gave her a sympathetic look. “Nightmares?”

 

“Some.”

 

Their eyes met in a shared understanding that went deeper than words. “Hate to say it, luv, but you’d better get going. You’ve got school today, and your mom—”

 

“Will deal,” Buffy said, cutting him off. “Although, I think I’d rather wait to have the talk until I’ve actually done something to deserve it.” When Spike grimaced again, she laughed at him. “Spike, you must have needed the sleep.” She paused. “Of course, if you were bored…”

 

He cut that thought off with a heated kiss. “Hardly. But exhausted, yeah. Sorry about that.”

 

“Forget about it,” she replied airily. “It wasn’t like last night was the only chance we were going to get.” Buffy got up, looking around for her shoes. Spike hadn’t even gotten her shirt half-unbuttoned last night before he passed out. She might have been a little more upset, but the look of peaceful contentment on his face was enough to still her anger.

 

Besides, Spike was just too cute when he was asleep.

 

She’d found one shoe and had turned to ask Spike if he’d seen the other when she gasped.

 

It wasn’t as though she’d never seen the vampire bare-chested before. Buffy had patched him up at least twice, but both of those times the damage had been to the front, and Spike had simply shifted his t-shirt enough to allow her to doctor the wound. Both times they’d also been in the middle of emergencies, and Buffy had been focused only on the task at hand.

 

Now, in the thin light of early morning, she could clearly see the network of scars on the pale skin of his back. Some of them—Buffy didn’t like to imagine what could do that kind of damage.

 

Spike heard her gasp and immediately reached for his t-shirt, only to be stopped by Buffy’s hand on his back. “They’re long healed, Buffy.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?” he asked. “Wasn’t anything you did, pet. They were there long before you were born.”

 

“I wasn’t very nice to you when you got to Sunnydale,” she replied, moving so she could look him in the eye. “I’m sorry about that.”

 

“Not a big deal,” he replied, reaching for his t-shirt again, suddenly uncomfortable. Buffy had seen more of him in this last night than anyone ever had before.

 

No, that wasn’t true. Spike had _shown_ more to Buffy than he ever had before. There had been others who had ripped down the barriers with their own two hands. Spike was suddenly deathly afraid of being seen.

 

Buffy could see the fear in his eyes, and she knew how he felt. She’d felt the same way the first time Spike had proven that he knew her, that he could somehow _see_ her. It was like standing on the edge of a precipice and being asked to take a leap of faith. All you really knew for certain was what it was going to feel like when you hit the bottom.

 

For once, she wasn’t afraid. Not of this, at least.

 

Her hand slid down his back, her eyes never leaving his. She could feel the smooth, raised scar tissue under her fingers. Buffy didn’t have to ask how it had happened, or who had caused it. She already knew. “This is why you didn’t like Giles’ plan.”

 

“Part of the reason,” Spike agreed, his voice hoarse.

 

Buffy nodded. “Then I’ll tell him that we have to find another plan.” She smiled at him. “Faith will give herself away when she tries to complete the ritual.”

 

Spike was quiet, thinking for a moment. “What about putting her under a truth spell?”

 

Buffy frowned. “What?”

 

“Truth spell,” Spike repeated. “When she goes for me, we chain her up and put the spell on her. She’ll have to tell us what she knows.”

 

The Slayer frowned. That plan somehow seemed so—cold. She searched Spike’s face and realized that while he might be uncomfortable with the idea, he still thought it was a good plan. It was better than sending him into the lion’s den, anyway. Buffy couldn’t disagree with that. “Okay. I’ll suggest it to Giles today.” She pulled away. “I really do have to get going. You know Faith and I are patrolling tonight, right? She’s back on active duty.”

 

“Be careful,” he warned, wondering if she was angry with him for not going through with Giles’ plan, and for suggesting something that was just a little underhanded.

 

Buffy just kissed him. “Always.”

 

~~~~~

 

“For the last time, Giles, I’m not going to ask him again,” Buffy said stubbornly. “Besides, I think Spike has a good alternative.”

 

Willow nodded. “I think I could do a truth spell, Giles,” she put in. “It would probably be less dangerous for Spike, too. I mean, if Faith were to find out that he hadn’t really lost his soul, that could get icky.”

 

“If I get a vote, I’m going to go with the truth spell too,” Xander said, raising his hand. “If Spike says he doesn’t want to do something, he’s got a good reason.”

 

Buffy wondered what Spike would say if he could hear her friends back him up. She had a feeling that it would probably surprise him.

 

Giles finally nodded his acceptance. “Very well, Buffy. If that’s your decision.”

 

“That’s Spike’s decision,” Buffy corrected him. “I’m just backing him up.”

 

Her Watcher gave her a sharp look. “Buffy—”

 

“Don’t, Giles,” Buffy said firmly, knowing what he was going to say. “I trust Spike—with my life, if it comes down to it.”

 

“Fine,” he said. “You’re going out with Faith tonight?”

 

Buffy nodded. “She wants to do a sweep.”

 

“Be careful, Buffy.”

 

“Sure thing,” the Slayer replied as she left.

 

Xander watched as Giles got up and shut his office door. “Okay, what exactly was that all about?”

 

Willow looked over at him. “You didn’t know?”

 

“Know what?” Xander asked, beginning to get alarmed. “What don’t I know?”

 

“About Spike and Buffy,” Willow said, frowning.

 

Xander stared at her. “What about them?”

 

“They’re dating.”

 

Xander frowned, and then the light slowly dawned. “They—” So much from the past few weeks suddenly had a context. “Another vampire?”

 

“Don’t make a fuss,” Willow said fiercely. “Buffy’s really happy, happier than she’s been since…” She trailed off. They both knew how long it had been since Buffy had been really happy.

 

Xander sighed. If he was completely honest with himself, and that really didn’t happen very often, he was still carrying a torch for Buffy. The idea of Buffy with anyone, let alone a vampire, didn’t sit well.

 

Of course, if Xander was completely honest with himself, he’d have to admit to having just a touch of hero worship for Spike.

 

“I guess it could be worse,” he finally said. “It could be Angel.”

 

~~~~~

 

“So how are you and Spike doing?” Faith asked, fishing for information. If this deal that the Mayor was working on went through, and she had no doubt that it would, she wanted to know how badly Buffy was going to hurt.

 

Especially since Faith had every intention of screwing Spike into a stupor.

 

Buffy shrugged. “Fine. I mean, we’ve both been really busy, but it’s nice not having to lie about my secret life.”

 

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Faith acknowledged. “You two make a cute couple.”

 

Buffy’s expression was a trifle suspicious, but she managed to respond cordially enough. “Thanks. Spike’s a good guy.”

 

“He really is,” Faith agreed. “He cares.”

 

“Yeah, he does,” Buffy replied, not sure of where Faith was going with this. She didn’t get a chance to find out. “Duck!”

 

Faith ducked, and Buffy punched the demon that had come up behind her. “Ow! Oooh,” he said, clutching his nose. “What did you do that for? Do you just go around punching people?”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows, pulling off his hat. “People?”

 

“Okay, demon, but so what?” he asked. Both Faith and Buffy raised their stakes. He held up his hands—or what passed for hands—in surrender. “Wait! Demon seeking out the Slayers? Highly unusual.”

 

“Talk fast,” Faith ordered.

 

“I got a deal for you,” the demon said. When neither girl responded immediately, he sighed. “The Books of Ascension are yours for a price.”

 

“Books of Ascension?” Buffy asked. “I’ve never heard of them.”

 

“Very powerful mojo,” the demon explained. “Very dark stuff. The Mayor would hate for anyone to get their hands on them before he, you know.”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy objected.

 

The demon shook his head. “Sorry, princess. It’s five large for the set, or nothing. You aren’t getting any more out of me.”

 

“I could fix that,” Faith threatened, holding up her stake again.

 

The demon dashed between them, running off before he wound up with a hole in him.

 

“Oh, let him go,” Buffy said when it looked as though Faith was going to try to follow. “I hardly think he falls into the deadly threat to humanity category.”

 

Faith’s brow creased in thought. “A demon’s a demon.”

 

“Maybe, but I really want to know more about these Books of Ascension,” Buffy replied. “Anything that would help us pin down the Mayor would be great.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Books of Ascension, huh?” Mayor Wilkins asked. “Well, I don’t like the sound of that. You’ll have to take care of it as soon as possible. It won’t do to have Miss Summers getting her hands on them.”

 

Faith frowned. “What about Spike?”

 

The Mayor raised his eyebrows. “A little anxious, aren’t we?”

 

“Well, he and Buffy are close,” Faith replied defensively. “If he’s on our side, that’ll definitely throw her for a loop.”

 

The Mayor nodded. “If you say so. You’re close enough to know. However, I want to make sure we have those books before we go ahead with our plan.” Mayor Wilkins gave her a sharp look. “Are you certain you can’t lure him over to our side through other means? Angel’s soul had a clause.”

 

“Spike’s soul doesn’t,” Faith replied. “Besides, he already turned me down once.”

 

“I don’t know what he was thinking,” the Mayor observed cheerfully. “You’re much prettier than Buffy.”

 

That got a smile out of Faith. “So when is this mage going to do his thing?”

 

“I think I’ll give it a day or so,” the Mayor said. “That gives you time to recover those Books for me.” A serious light entered his eyes. “Please make sure you retrieve them before Buffy and her little friends see them. Replacing Mr. Trick was difficult enough.”

 

Faith nodded, looking away from him. “Will do, boss.”

 

~~~~~

 

“The Books of Ascension?” Wesley asked. “That certainly isn’t ringing any bells.”

 

Giles shook his head. “Nor for me.” He grimaced. “And you say this demon wanted cash?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “That’s what he said.”

 

“What happened to the still beating heart of a virgin?” Giles muttered. “Any self-respecting demon—”

 

“Knows that sometimes you need cash to get by in this world,” Spike interrupted, amused. “Can’t do a heck of a lot with a heart.”

 

“What does Ascension mean, anyway?” Xander asked.

 

Giles shook his head, indicating his own lack of knowledge. “Wesley?”

 

The younger Watcher shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s not a common term in demonology.”

 

“Oh!” Willow exclaimed. “The Marenschadt text! That had a reference to the Ascension in it.”

 

Buffy gave her friend an impressed look. “We have a winner.”

 

“And more importantly, two losers,” Xander said.

 

Spike just smiled. He’d managed to go back to sleep after Buffy left, and he was feeling better than he had in weeks. Even with the impending apocalypse, Spike was feeling pretty good. Although the idea that someone might be able to steal his soul certainly didn’t make him feel very secure.

 

Still, Buffy had greeted him with a casual kiss when he entered the library. It was the first truly public display of affection she’d shown him, and it put Spike up on cloud nine.

 

Yeah, he was still Love’s Bitch. So what? At least this time the girl returned the feeling.

 

Spike listened as Giles read the pertinent passage, as well as his offered information that the town had disappeared. He frowned. There had been a few instances that he knew of where an entire town had seemingly evaporated into thin air.

 

He’d been hired to investigate one such instance, and what he’d found had been enough to give him nightmares for a week.

 

And that certainly didn’t happen very often.

 

Spike was fairly certain that the missing town in that case didn’t have anything to do with what they were investigating now, though.

 

He was about to offer his own observations when Cordelia strode confidently into the library, coming straight up to Wesley. “What are you doing Friday night?”

 

Spike’s eyebrows went straight up as he watched her appreciatively. Never let it be said that he didn’t like an assertive woman. He felt a sharp pain in his ankle and looked over to see Buffy glaring at him. He shrugged, and then looked back over at Wesley and Cordelia to enjoy the show.

 

Wesley had stiffened. “Well, ah, as always my sacred duty as a Watcher prevents me—Why?”

 

“I have an English paper to write,” Cordelia stated. She saw the looks that Xander and Buffy were exchanging. “What? I figured it couldn’t hurt to get an inside track.” She turned back to Wesley. “I study best over candlelight. Say around eightish?”

 

She walked back out of the library, leaving Wesley speechless. “Well, that gives ‘flimsy excuse’ a new meaning.” Xander looked sour, and Spike wasn’t sure he could blame him. Of course, it was Xander’s own fault he’d lost the girl in the first place, so Spike couldn’t feel _too_ sorry.

 

Wesley cleared his throat. “I think we ought to see those books.”

 

“Anybody got five thousand dollars?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike shrugged. “Technically? Yeah, but I’m not giving my hard-earned money to some snitch. I say we persuade him to let us borrow them for a while.”

 

Wesley nodded. “Precisely what I was going to suggest. Buffy, Spike, why don’t you see what you can find out?”

 

Spike stood, holding out a hand to help Buffy up in a gentlemanly manner. “Luv?”

 

Buffy took the proferred hand. “Thanks. We’ll see you later.”

 

~~~~~

 

 “So you told him?”

 

“What do you think?” Buffy asked. “Giles is on board.”

 

Spike made a face. “Did he give you grief?”

 

“Willow and Xander backed you,” Buffy replied. “Giles backed down. He was definitely in the minority.”

 

Spike stopped. “What?”

 

Buffy turned around to look at him. “What?”

 

“You said Willow and Xander backed me,” he pointed out.

 

She frowned. “Yeah. So?”

 

“They don’t even know why.”

 

“I think they figured if you said no you had good reason,” Buffy replied. “They know you’re not a coward, Spike.” When he still didn’t look convinced, she said, “Spike, you’re one of us. Of course they’re going to back you up. That’s what we do.”

 

Spike shook his head. “I’m not—really?”

 

Buffy didn’t think she’d ever understand what made Spike so sure that he didn’t belong when he’d been a functioning member of the group for months now. In fact, the others had accepted his presence before she had. Then again, she wasn’t a vampire who had been wandering for nearly a century, so maybe she’d never really understand him.

 

“Duh,” Buffy replied, deciding that the light-hearted approach was the best one to take. “You’ve been around for almost a year now, and you’ve definitely saved my butt enough to be considered a Scooby.” She grinned at him. “Although, normally it’s the other way around, and I’m saving everyone else.”

 

He gave her a smug grin. “Turn about’s fair play, pet.”

 

“As long as you’re the guy doing the saving, I think I can handle it,” Buffy replied.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike wasn’t feeling all that heroic when he got home just before dawn. It had been a long night, what with tracking down the demon and not finding the demon. It had been Xander who pulled through with the information. He’d gone to Willy and had applied some judicious pressure for the address.

 

An address that led to nothing more than a dead body.

 

Spike was a little concerned about the state of the body. When he made a kill, it was quick and clean. This wasn’t. Whoever had done the job had enjoyed the killing. Spike knew that type.

 

He’d been that type, once upon a time.

 

“Spike?”

 

Faith’s voice came from behind him, and Spike’s eyes narrowed before he turned around. He could guess why the other Slayer was here. He turned slowly. “Faith. What’s up?”

 

“I’ve done something really bad,” she said, holding out her bloody hands.

 

Spike recognized that scent. He’d been at the scene of the crime not all that long ago, and the demon’s blood had a very distinct aroma. “That right?”

 

“You don’t look too surprised,” Faith said, suddenly appearing a lot less distressed than she had when she’d first come up to him.

 

Spike shrugged. “You forget, luv. I’ve been around the dregs of humanity for decades now. I know what to look for.”

 

Faith sneered. “Yeah? Well, it takes one to know one.”

 

Spike just lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll have to do better than that to hurt my feelings, ducks. I’ve been tortured by the best in the business.” His eyes grew cold. “For three years. A few barbs are hardly going to cause damage.”

 

“How about this?” she asked, reaching into her jacket, pulling out a vial of blood, and splashing it all over him. The mage, who had informed Giles about who was intending to hire him, appeared in a swirl of light and began to chant.

 

Spike fell to his knees, playing along with it for a moment, long enough for the mage to get clear. That had been the deal, and he was willing to abide by it. When he did stand, it was to backhand Faith across the face.

 

“Too bad the soul is anchored,” Spike said, smirking.

 

He had never actually fought a Slayer all out. Spike had sparred with Buffy on numerous occasions, but there was always a difference in how you fought when it was a life or death situation versus a practice session. There was an edge there that wasn’t present at any other time.

 

Faith was good. She wasn’t necessarily better than Spike, but she was giving him a run for his money. Besides, even the best warrior made a mistake at times.

 

Spike was no exception to that rule. He moved to avoid a right spin-kick, not seeing the feint for what it was. Faith managed to drop and sweep his legs out from under him in a quick maneuver that laid him flat on his back.

 

She was straddling his waist, grinding into him even as she held a stake to his heart. Spike couldn’t help his response. “You know, the Mayor wanted you on our side, but it looks like you’re just going to die.” Faith sneered at him. “You’re not so tough.”

 

Spike tried to move, and she pressed the stake down harder. “Can you really kill someone in cold blood?” he asked, watching her closely.

 

“You’re not a someone,” Faith replied. “You’re a vampire. I dust your kind every night.” His eyes went wide as she raised the stake, ready for the plunge. “You’re lucky,” she said conversationally. “When the Mayor gets done with Buffy, she’s going to wish she died as quickly as you’re going to.”

 

Spike met her gaze unflinchingly. “Do it then.”

 

He had no doubt that she would.


	32. Chapter 32

**“I thought I was dying, I felt the cold up close/and knew that from all my life I left only you behind:/my earthly day and night were your mouth,/your skin the republic my kisses founded./In that instant the books stopped,/and friendship, treasures restlessly amassed,/ the transparent house that you and I built:/everything dropped away, except your eyes./ Because while life harasses us, love is/only a wave taller than the other waves:/but oh, when death comes knocking at the gate,/there is only your glance against so much emptiness,/ only your light against extinction,/only your love to shut out the shadows.” ~Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet XC”**

 

Buffy wasn’t quite certain why she felt it necessary to follow Spike home. Maybe it was knowing that Faith was planning something. Maybe it was some Slayer sense. Or maybe it was a combination of the two, knowing that the Mayor most likely had the Books of Ascension and that now would probably be a good time for him to come after Spike.

 

Whatever the reason, Buffy managed to tackle Faith just as she was bringing the weapon down, causing the other girl’s aim to go wide, the stake embedding itself harmlessly into Spike’s arm.

 

Well, not _harmlessly_ , but at least he wasn’t dust.

 

Buffy grappled with the other Slayer, both of them rolling around on the floor, struggling to get the upper hand. For a moment, it appeared as though Faith would be the winner, since she managed to get on top, her hands around Buffy’s neck.

 

Buffy saw a shadow fall across both of them, and then Faith’s body collapsed on top of her. “Better get her inside,” Spike said, tucking the blackjack back into his pocket. “The sun’s going to be up in about two minutes.”

 

Even with blood dripping off his hand, Spike appeared perfectly calm. Like he hadn’t come face to face with his permanent demise. Buffy didn’t know how he did it because she was shaking like a leaf.

 

Between the two of them they managed to get Faith inside Spike’s townhouse with a minimum of fuss, and then Buffy stood watch over her while Spike got a set of chains.

 

Buffy decided she didn’t want to know if he’d gotten them specifically for Faith, or if there was another reason to keep them around.

 

Spike put the manacles on Faith with all the practice of a professional. “Better call Rupert. I’ll get this arm taken care of.”

 

“I’ll take care of your arm while you call Giles,” Buffy corrected him. Spike looked like he was about to protest, and she held up a hand. “Please, Spike. She almost killed you.”

 

Spike held her gaze, his look measuring. “Alright.”

 

Buffy bandaged his arm while he talked to Giles, informing him that now that Faith had made the attempt to remove his soul, they needed to do the truth spell as soon as possible. Once he’d hung up, Buffy spoke. “That was way too close.”

 

“It was a bit,” he agreed evenly. “I’d have been alright, Buffy.”

 

She took a step back. “Spike, she nearly staked you! If I hadn’t been there—”

 

“I’d have managed,” Spike interrupted. “It’s not the first time I’ve been in a life or death situation, luv.”

 

“Don’t you get it?” she demanded. “Don’t you know what it would do to me to lose you?”

 

Spike just smiled. “You’re not going to lose me, Buffy. I made a promise.”

 

She scowled at him. “And you nearly bought it!”

 

He could smell the fear on her, and it warmed him to know that she was so concerned. “But I didn’t.”

 

Buffy was still glaring at him. “Don’t do that again.”

 

“Give it my best shot,” Spike promised.

 

She closed her eyes. “Okay.”

 

“Hey now,” Spike said, touching her cheek, waiting for Buffy to open her eyes. “I’m alright. No harm done. We’ll do the spell on Faith, get a bead on the Mayor, and then we’ll take him down. Piece of cake, right?”

 

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t say things like that,” she ordered. “You’ll jinx us.”

 

~~~~~

 

When Giles showed up with a bag of magic supplies, Wesley was close on his heels. “What is _he_ doing here?” Buffy asked, eyeing her Watcher with distaste.

 

“I didn’t have a choice,” Giles replied. “He was there when Spike called.”

 

Wesley drew himself up. “I do have some experience with the black arts, Miss Summers.”

 

She snorted. “Right.”

 

“It’s alright, Buffy,” Spike said quietly, eyeing him. “We’ll let him take a shot. Wes screws up, I can always eat him.”

 

Wesley’s gulping was audible.

 

“I hardly think that will be necessary,” Giles said, his lips twitching suspiciously. “The truth spell only takes one person to perform it.”

 

“You done this before?” Spike asked Giles.

 

The older Watcher shook his head. “No, but—”

 

“I have.”

 

All three of them turned to look at Wesley, who had the grace to look embarrassed. “I did graduate at the top of my class,” he muttered. “So you needn’t look so surprised.”

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Okay, you’re on. But if you screw this one up, we’ll release Faith and lock you two in a room together.” She marched back into the living room where the other Slayer was just beginning to come around.

 

Spike clapped him on the shoulder, smirking at him. “Good luck, mate.”

 

Giles just raised his eyebrows. “You can still leave.”

 

“No, I can do this,” Wesley replied, squaring his shoulders. “At least, I want to try.”

 

“You’ll need to do better than that,” Giles replied.

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley was trying very hard not to let anyone see his hands shake. The way Faith was staring at him, you’d think she was trying to cut him down with her glare alone. When he had insisted on accompanying Giles, it had merely been because he’d felt as though they were all cutting him out of the loop, as though he wasn’t capable of contributing anything.

 

He really did want to contribute something.

 

This was something he’d always excelled at, however—magic. Not that he had a great deal of power, of course. Wesley knew himself well enough to know that he would never make a great wizard, but he did have a very focused will, and a small amount of talent.

 

In other words, he had what it took to force Faith to tell the truth, to give them important information about the Mayor’s plans. He had a chance to make a difference.

 

If he didn’t end up losing the contents of his stomach first.

 

Mixing the spell components was simple enough; it called for accuracy and nothing more. The words themselves were fairly simple, too, calling for the enemy’s tongue to be bound. When Wesley spoke the final words, he cast a handful of the powder over Faith, who sneezed and continued to glare at him.

 

“Is that it?” Buffy asked. “Are you sure it worked?”

 

Wesley took a deep breath. “Why don’t you ask Faith a question she would normally lie about?”

 

“Are you working for the Mayor, Faith?” Spike asked.

 

She appeared to struggle with herself, her mouth twisting with the effort not to respond. “Yes!” she finally spat out, glaring at him.

 

“Think it’s working, pet.” Spike stood, walking over to stand close to her. “Then why don’t you tell us what the Mayor is planning.”

 

Faith struggled against the magical coercion, finally saying, “He’s going to Ascend.”

 

“What does that mean?” Giles asked.

 

“It means he’ll be powerful enough to rule Sunnydale,” Faith replied, snarling. “And the first thing he’ll do is make sure you all die.”

 

“How novel,” Buffy commented. “Another bad guy who wants to kill me.” She faced Faith. “When?”

 

Faith struggled again, finally saying, “Graduation Day.”

 

They grilled her for another hour, asking endless variations of the same questions, trying to get more details, but that was essentially all the information they received. Faith didn’t know much about the Mayor’s long term plans, only that he would be powerful enough to rule Sunnydale, and that the means to take power was the Ascension, set to take place on Graduation Day.

 

Of course, what they hadn’t really talked about was what they were going to do with the rogue Slayer once they had the desired information.

 

“We can’t turn her over to the police,” Buffy said, during their whispered conference in the kitchen. “They won’t be able to hold her.”

 

“Nor the Council, I’m sorry to say,” Wesley admitted. “Last time—”

 

“Last time they botched the job completely,” Giles interrupted. “What would you suggest, Spike?”

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m torn.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “You aren’t thinking—”

 

“Thought about it and decided against it,” he assured her. “It did enter my head, though.”

 

Wesley frowned. “What—oh. You were thinking about killing her.”

 

“Shh!” Buffy warned him. “Keep your voice down.” She looked at Giles. “Any other options?”

 

Giles shook his head. “We could keep her chained up somewhere, but I hardly think that’s a feasible solution. There would have to be someone there to guard her at all times, and I don’t think we can spare the two of you.” Buffy and Spike nodded, knowing that he was referring to the fact that of all of them, they were the only ones with a shot at controlling Faith if she was to get loose.

 

“She can stay here for a couple of days,” Spike finally said. “We can keep her that long.”

 

Buffy moved slightly so that she could see where Faith was sitting from the kitchen, just to check on her. The sight before her eyes did not make her happy. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

 

Spike moved behind her, cursing. “Bloody hell. I checked those chains!”

 

“She’s a Slayer,” Buffy said quietly. “We get the job done, whatever that happens to be.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Well, this is all most unfortunate,” the Mayor said.

 

“I tried to fight the spell!” Faith protested.

 

Mayor Wilkins waved off her excuses. “Oh, I’m sure you did your best, Faith. Truth spells are impossible to fight unless you’ve specifically warded against them.” He shrugged. “It’s no matter. They don’t know enough to pose a threat to my plans.”

 

Faith frowned. “Are you sure? I could kill them for you.”

 

The Mayor smiled at her enthusiasm. “I’m sure you could, but let’s put that off for right now. There’ll be time enough for killing later.” He frowned. “I’ll have to think about something to do with that vampire, though. He’s proving to be a bit more trouble than I’d anticipated.”

 

“His soul should have been gone,” Faith muttered.

 

“No doubt,” Mayor Wilkins agreed. “That mage certainly didn’t do the job I’d hired him for. Unfortunately, there’s no way to get my money back.” He paused. “Or my sacrifices back. No, that plan is a bust, but I’ve got others.” He smiled at her. “So don’t you worry your pretty little head, Faith. They might be able to anticipate my Ascension, but they certainly won’t be able to stop it. And anticipation just makes the event that much better, you know.”

 

~~~~~

 

“We need to know more about the Mayor.”

 

It was a rather obvious statement given that they knew next to nothing about the man himself, and the great threat he posed to Sunnydale. Of course, no one really expected anything different from Wesley.

 

“What about the computer files?” Giles asked Willow. “Did you find anything there?”

 

Willow shook her head. “No. By the time I got through the encryptions, they were all empty. I’m guessing that Faith told him I was coming.”  


“We could break into the Mayor’s office,” Buffy suggested.

 

Spike shook his head. “Far be it from me to be the voice of caution, but I think we ought to save B&E for dire circumstances. We get caught in there…” He trailed off.

 

Giles nodded. “I’m going to have to agree with Spike,” he said, looking at Buffy. “The risk is too great at the moment. We’ll save that for when we really need the information.”

 

“What about the Hall of Records?” Oz asked. “Go straight to the source.”

 

“That’s a good idea,” Wesley commented. “I imagine there ought to be plenty of information there.”

 

Giles nodded. “Wesley, why don’t you take a group to the Hall of Records?”

 

“I’m with Wesley’s group,” Cordelia chimed in.

 

Buffy and Spike exchanged looks. “There’s just the one group, Cordelia,” Giles said dryly.

 

“You need us for that?” Spike asked. “I’m not sure Buffy and I will be of as much use.”

 

Buffy nodded, appreciating the opportunity to get out of research, never her favorite task. “I’m thinking that we should patrol. Make sure things stay quiet.”

 

Giles eyed them suspiciously. He suspected that they probably wanted to spend some time together. Spike spoke up before the older Watcher could say anything. “Might be a better idea to do some research of our own,” he pointed out. “If the Mayor was using Trick, he might have other demonic resources.”

 

Giles pursed his lips. “That’s not a bad idea.”

 

“I’m sure the Slayer is more suited to that sort of research,” Wesley said. “Why don’t you accompany her, Spike?”

 

They both stared at him, knowing that Wesley was repeating what they had just said in order to make it sound like the suggestion came from him rather than from Giles.

 

“Right,” Spike said. “We’ll do that then.” He rolled his eyes, offering Buffy his hand, which she took gracefully. “See you lot later then.”

 

Buffy waited until they were outside before saying, “Thank you. If I had to spend the night looking over dusty old books…”

 

“Not your thing, luv,” Spike replied. “I get that. Not really my cup of tea either.”

 

“So did you mean what you said about looking for the Mayor’s contacts?”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You got a better idea?”

 

Buffy smiled. “Well, maybe not a better idea, but definitely an idea for later. What would you say to a movie?”

 

~~~~~

 

“The Mayor is really a bad guy?” Joyce asked. “He always seemed like such a nice man.”

 

“A nice man who has been around since at least the turn of the century,” Giles commented. Joyce was tucked up next to him, and he was idly playing with her hair. “The more we learn about Mayor Wilkins, the more concerned I become. We know next to nothing about this Ascension.”

 

Joyce caught his free hand with one of her own. “But you’ll figure it out.”

 

“Perhaps.” Giles didn’t sound very certain. “I very much fear that we’ve gone too long without stopping him. There may be no way to prevent the Ascension from occurring.”

 

“I doubt that,” Joyce said. “Between you and Buffy and Spike, you ought to be able to come up with something.”

 

Giles tilted his head down. “Does Buffy know you’re out?”

 

“She thinks I’m working late,” Joyce replied. “That is, if she’s been home to see my note. Buffy’s with Spike so much of the time these days that I wouldn’t be surprised if she hasn’t gotten home yet.” Seeing the expression on Giles’ face, Joyce smiled. “And, no, I don’t mind. Spike is a good man, and I trust that he’ll keep Buffy safe.”

 

“Even though he’s a vampire?”

 

Joyce shook her head. “You know, with Spike that doesn’t seem to be as much of a factor. He’s—”

 

“He’s very human,” Giles said, providing the words. “I remember hearing stories about him when I was in the Watcher’s Academy. He was something of a legend. No one believed that he really existed, of course, but I think we all wished he was real. We were like children who wanted to believe in Santa Claus.”

 

“And now that he’s real?” Joyce asked, knowing that all-too-often real life turned beloved legend into disappointment.

 

A far-away light entered Giles’ eyes. “Now? I feel as though I’m living out history. It’s a rather heady experience, I must admit.”

 

~~~~~

 

“You sure your mum won’t mind?” Spike asked as they entered the house.

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, if she’s even home. Mom’s been working late a lot lately.”

 

Spike had to fight back a smile. He had a feeling that Joyce wasn’t at the gallery tonight, but rather was keeping Rupert company. When he had called in to let the Watcher know that they’d been successful at disposing of some of the Mayor’s vampire contacts, and that they were safe, he’d heard a soft, feminine voice in the background.

 

He just hoped that he wouldn’t be the one to inadvertently reveal the secret. Spike would hate to see Buffy’s reaction if she ever found out that he knew her Watcher and her mum were spending their nights together.

 

Of course, technically he didn’t know. He only suspected.

 

“So what are we watching?” he asked.

 

Buffy grinned. “Well, since you’re old, I thought we could raid Mom’s collection of black and white flicks.”

 

“I am not old!” Spike protested. “I’ll have you know that vampires don’t age a day after they’ve been turned.”

 

Buffy’s expression turned thoughtful. “How old were you?”

 

Spike hesitated, uncertain that he wanted to go down this road tonight. “Twenty-six,” he finally admitted.

 

“Really?” She frowned, now doubly curious. “What did you do?”

 

He tried to distract her with the movie. “You know, we should start the show before—”

 

“Talking is also part of a date,” Buffy said. “Unless you don’t want to tell me.”

 

The hint of a pout was enough to have Spike acquiescing, however ungraciously. “I was a gentleman,” he replied. “Which means I did a bloody lot of nothing.”

 

“Oh.” Buffy looked impressed. “Does that mean you were independently wealthy?”

 

“Not rich, but we were well enough off,” Spike corrected her.

 

“Did you have family?”

 

“I had a mum.”

 

The tone of Spike’s voice told Buffy that the subject was closed for the evening. “I guess it’s a good thing that Mom likes you so much then,” she commented. “You get a girlfriend and a mom for the price of one.”

 

Spike’s face softened. “Yeah. I like your mum.”

 

“That’s good, because I like you.”

 

Spike kissed her, and Buffy never wanted it to end. In fact, it probably wouldn’t have ended—or it would have been carried out to its logical conclusion—except for the sound of the front door opening and closing. They broke apart just in time to regain a decorous distance from one another.

 

“Oh, good, Buffy. You’re home,” Joyce said. Although she did like Spike, she was less than thrilled to see him, mostly because he had that knowing light in his eyes again. “Did you guys have a good night?”

 

“We did,” Buffy replied, biting back a sigh. She apologized to Spike with her eyes. “I should probably get to bed.”

 

“I have to be getting home,” he replied, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. “’Night, Buffy. ’Night, Joyce,” he said, giving the older woman a respectful nod as he went out the door.

 

Joyce waited until Spike was well out of earshot before she spoke. “Would you do me a favor?”

 

Buffy gave her mom a wary look. “What’s that?”

 

“Please don’t tell me anything I don’t want to know.” Joyce kissed her daughter on the forehead. “There are times when ignorance is definitely bliss.”

 

Buffy couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. “Will do.”


	33. Chapter 33

**“The Rose is/Weeping for her love,/The nightingale./And he is flying/Fast above,/To her he will/Not fail./Already golden/Eve appears;/He wings his way along;/Ah! Look he comes/To kiss her tears,/And soothe her/With his song.” Philip James Bailey, “Helen’s Song”**

 

Spike might have known what kind of demon she was fighting; it was hard to say. The vampire certainly had a vast knowledge of such things. Still, it was just as possible that he would have been as ignorant as Buffy.

 

One demon down and one more left to go, and the second ran off before Buffy could do anything about it. She sighed. Buffy had no idea where Spike was. He’d said that he had an errand to run before he could meet her. The Slayer had gotten the bright idea of doing a quick sweep so they could spend more time alone together without having to worry about a demon jumping out of the bushes.

 

Of course, living on the Hellmouth meant that there was no shortage of either vampires or demons. They would probably never come to the end of the supply.

 

“Such a heavy sigh, luv,” Spike teased, emerging from the darkness, just one more shadow. Buffy would never figure out how he managed to appear like that. If she hadn’t known better, the Slayer would have sworn it was magic.

 

She managed a smile for him. “I was just wondering where you were.”

 

“Here, now,” he replied, holding up his keychain. Buffy saw the compass charm and her smile became a little more genuine. She was still wearing the bracelet he’d given her. “What’s up?”

 

“Do you want to come to the Bronze with me?” she asked hopefully. “Everyone was going, but with patrol…”

 

Spike looked behind her to see the dead demon on the picnic table. “Reckon he won’t be a threat. What about the second?”

 

Buffy frowned. “You were here the whole time, and you didn’t lend a hand?”

 

“Just got here,” he assured her. “Right after the second ran off and as you were killing that one.”

 

Buffy decided that she could let him off the hook—this time. “Okay. So, Bronze?”

 

“You going to let me say no?” he asked, although he sounded amused and resigned rather than annoyed.

 

Buffy belatedly realized that as a vampire who had been around for a century or more, Spike might not appreciate being dragged to what was essentially a teen hangout. “We don’t have to go,” she assured him. “We could do something else that you want to do.”

 

“Buffy—”

 

“It’s fine,” she went on, thinking that he was going to protest. “Really. I didn’t even ask what—”

 

“The Bronze is fine.” Spike tilted his head. “I don’t have anywhere better to be.”

 

She frowned. “You really don’t mind?”

 

“We’ll be together, yeah?” Spike asked easily. “Doesn’t much matter what we’re doing.”

 

She reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, but you might not even like the Bronze. I know it’s mostly teenagers there, so we could go somewhere else.”

 

“Let’s go to the Bronze,” Spike replied. “Oz is playing tonight, right? I don’t mind his band so much.”

 

They started heading off in that direction. “What kind of errand did you have to run?”

 

“Had to see a guy,” Spike replied vaguely. “Thought he might know a bit more about our Mayor, but he hadn’t a bloody clue. I’ve got a couple other informants, though. We’ll see what they come up with.”

 

“When did you get informants?” Buffy asked, disbelieving.

 

Spike just gave her an inscrutable look. “It’s one of the first things I do when I get to a town, especially if I’m going to be staying any length of time. Don’t always use them, but I make sure I know who has information I might want. That’s how I knew about SlayerFest.”

 

Buffy was silent, wondering again about the differences in the way they did things. About the only snitch she had was Willy, and that information was spotty at best. It was hard to know whether or not he was trying to double-cross her.

 

She had the feeling that Spike didn’t have that problem. His informants were probably too scared of him to even contemplate a betrayal.

 

“Penny for your thoughts.”

 

“Just thinking about having informants.” She was quiet for a minute. “Or not having informants. I hadn’t even thought about doing something like that.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been doing this for a living for a lot longer than you, pet.”

 

“I know, it’s just—” Buffy broke off. Sometimes Spike was just so hard to read. She wished she knew what he was thinking sometimes, and if he really was happy with her.

 

There were times when Buffy was certain that there was no way he could be content staying here in Sunnydale, not when he’d traveled around the world. That there was no way he could be content with her, not when he’d had his pick of women.

 

It certainly would have been nice to be a mind reader.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander watched the cheerleaders with a deep sense of bitterness. A few months ago, he could have watched Cordelia in her short skirt with pride because she would have been his. Now he watched knowing that he had no greater claim on her than anyone else. It galled.

 

What was worse was knowing that Cordelia had her eyes on Wesley, and the Watcher apparently had his eyes on her.

 

“Look at him,” Xander muttered, catching sight of Wesley on the stairs. He was watching the pep rally avidly, although the expression on his face was one of discomfort, not excitement. “He’s got his filthy Pierce Brosnany eyes all over her.”

 

Oz glanced over at him. “You’re a very complex man, aren’t you?”

 

Xander glared as Wesley shook his head and started climbing the stairs again. “What does she see in him?” he demanded.

 

Willow came over and sat back down next to Oz. “Who sees what in who?”

 

“Cordelia,” Xander replied. “In Wesley. What could she possibly see in him? What does he have that I don’t?”

 

“An accent?” Oz ventured.

 

Willow made a face. “If I knew that, I’d know how Cordelia’s mind worked. And then I’d have to kill myself.”

 

Xander shifted, still looking rather unhappy. “It’s not fair.”

 

Oz decided it was time to change the subject. This wasn’t the first time that Xander had harped on the subject of Cordelia and her fascination with Wesley. “What was up with Buffy?”

 

“She’s a little freaked out,” Willow replied. “Giles told her that the demon she killed could pass on an aspect of itself through contact with its blood, and she made contact.” She looked back over her shoulder in the direction Buffy had disappeared. “She’s worried about getting horns or a tail or something like that.”

 

“At least with a physical trait she’d still be Buffy,” Oz said. “If I was her, I’d be worried about getting something intangible.”

 

Willow shook her head frantically. “Please don’t say that to her. Buffy’s freaked enough as it is, and she’s already worrying about not being Buffy anymore.”

 

“I just don’t get it,” Xander said.

 

Willow frowned. “You don’t get what?”

 

“Why Cordelia would even like Wesley,” he said. Xander had a one-track mind at times. “No one else does.”

 

“I think Spike kinda likes him,” Willow replied.

 

Xander’s eyebrows went up. “Spike threatened to eat him.”

 

Willow shrugged. “I think Spike just likes to give him a hard time. Maybe it’s just because they’re both British.”

 

“Giles doesn’t seem to think much of him,” Oz said.

 

“Wesley did take Giles’ place,” Willow replied. “Well, not really, since Wesley’s not in charge, but the Council did pick Wesley to be Buffy’s Watcher.” She looked thoughtful. “Do you think Buffy will change?”

 

Oz took his girlfriend’s hand in his own. “Buffy’s Buffy. I don’t know that she could be anyone else.”

 

~~~~~

 

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Spike finally demanded. Buffy had been distracted and glum all evening, but she refused to talk to him about it. When she didn’t reply right away, Spike took her arm and steered her towards a nearby bus stop bench. “Spill.”

 

Buffy fidgeted. “You know those demons I ran into last night?”

 

“The ugly ones? Sure.”

 

“Apparently, I get to be just like them.”

 

Spike frowned, trying to filter out the truth from the melodrama. Confusion cleared as he remembered some of the rumors he’d heard in the past. “Aspect of the demon?”

 

“Yeah,” Buffy replied. “So I’m going to get horns or a tail or my mouth will disappear—”

 

Spike cut off her litany with a kiss. “Slow down, luv. You don’t know that.”

 

“Aspect of the demon, Spike!” Buffy said, an edge of hysteria in her voice. Maybe it was strange, but Spike was the one person she could freak out on. She hadn’t even let Willow see the full extent of her fear. Spike could be trusted to remain calm, however. Buffy had tested that trait enough times to know.

 

He shook his head. “And if it’s something you don’t want, we’ll find a way to fix it. I’ve told you, Buffy, I’ve got your back.”

 

“I don’t see why,” she muttered.

 

Spike pulled back. “Look, Buffy—”

 

“Forget I said that,” she quickly said. “I’m just—out of sorts tonight. After everything with Faith, and all my friends are getting to do the regular high school student thing…”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Our basketball team made it to the championship, and everyone was going to the game tonight.” She paused. “Except for me.”

 

“You could have gone, luv,” Spike pointed out. “I could take patrol for the night.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I’m the Slayer, Spike. It’s my duty. Besides, if Faith caught you alone, it could be bad.”

 

“There’s no need to worry over me.”

 

“Like you don’t worry about me?” she asked.

 

Spike grinned at her. “Touché.” He stood. “You ready to get going?”

 

“I guess.” She shrugged. “Might as well get it over with.”

 

Buffy felt a hand on her cheek, Spike’s thumb caressing her face. “Wish I could make this easier on you, Buffy.”

 

Buffy smiled at him. “You do.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy had always heard that you should be careful about what you wished for because you just might get it. Well, now she could hear people’s thoughts, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. It had seemed pretty cool at first, especially since she actually looked smart for once in English, taking the words right out of Nancy Doyle’s mouth. Or her mind.

 

Her friends were obviously uncomfortable in her presence, however, and Giles was acting even more British than usual. Other than the shoe thing, Buffy had noticed that it was more difficult to read Giles’ mind than anyone else’s. She would have suspected that it had something to do with his Watcher training, except for the fact that Wesley seemed to be incapable of thinking about anything except Cordelia.

 

Of course, Xander obviously thought about sex all the time, so maybe Wesley was one up on him.

 

Buffy needed to get out of the library, but just being inside the school was overwhelming. Voices pressed on her from every side. It was like standing in a crowded room with everyone shouting at her at once.

 

Going to the cafeteria probably wasn’t the brightest idea she’d ever had, but Buffy needed to eat. If it got much worse, she decided she’d go home, or she’d go see Spike.

 

Of course, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know she could read his mind, not knowing how everyone else had reacted to her new-found powers.

 

The noise inside the cafeteria seemed intensified. There were too many people, in too small a space, all of them _thinking_.

 

And then one voice broke clearly through the confusion. “This time tomorrow, I’ll kill you all.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike knew how to manage the trip to the Summers’ house, even in the daytime. He’d worked it out a while ago, just in case there was an emergency, and Buffy needed him during the day. Spike had also figured out the routes between his place and the school, Giles’ apartment, Joyce’s gallery, and the homes of Buffy’s friends.

 

No one could say he wasn’t thorough.

 

Joyce had called him, sounding worried and tense. She’d told him what had happened, and then had asked him to come over. “I don’t think I can sit with her right now.”

 

“She already find out about you and Rupert?” Spike had asked.

 

“There was some yelling,” Joyce had admitted. “It’s probably not a good idea for me to be near her right now. I just can’t help thinking about—you know.”

 

It wasn’t funny, but Spike had fought the desire to laugh anyway. That’s what happened when you tried to hide something like this. You wound up getting yourself into trouble. “She can’t read me,” he assured her. “Probably will be more restful with me around anyway.”

 

So now he was here, with Rupert’s words echoing in his head. The Watcher had called to tell him what they’d found out just before he’d left his place. “You’ll have to find that demon tonight, Spike. We need its heart to reverse the effects. If we don’t do it soon—”

 

“Buffy will go mad,” Spike finished. He’d known a few telepaths. If they couldn’t get a handle on their abilities, they usually ended up completely barmy, or they completely isolated themselves from other people. Dru hadn’t been able to hear others’ thoughts exactly, but she’d had certain gifts in that area. Spike might have taken care of her until he got his soul, but it hadn’t been a picnic.

 

There was no way he was going to allow that to happen to Buffy.

 

Spike made a mad dash from the manhole to the front door, skidding inside as it opened. He dropped the blanket he’d carried for protection and stamped out the spot that had caught fire. “She upstairs?”

 

Joyce nodded. “Spike—”

 

He put a hand on her arm. “We’ll sort this, Joyce. Promise.” Spike took the stairs two at a time to Buffy’s room. “You alright, pet?”

 

She appeared tired. “I guess.” Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “Please tell me you didn’t know about Mom and Giles.”

 

“I didn’t know about your mum and the Watcher,” Spike replied.

 

Buffy stared at him. “Really?”

 

He shrugged. “Well, you asked me to tell you I didn’t know.”

 

She frowned. “I—I can’t hear you.”

 

“Vampire. We don’t show up on a telepath’s radar. Not sure how it works, but it’s a handy trick at times.” He sat down on the edge of her bed. “To be honest, I didn’t know, but I had my suspicions.”

 

“You didn’t tell me,” she accused him, sounding like a petulant child.

 

“You didn’t want to know,” he said gently. “Besides, it wasn’t any of my business.”

 

Buffy leaned back on her pillows. “Nobody wants to be around me. And everything is so loud. I can’t block it out.”

 

“I know, luv,” he replied.

 

“Giles thinks I’m going to go mad.”

 

“You think I’d let something like that happen?” Spike asked. “We’ll get it sorted. Rupert and Wesley are working on an antidote. Soon as I find that other demon and rip its heart out, we’ll be well on our way to a solution.”

 

Buffy’s eyes were shadowed as she looked at him. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if Giles is right and I do go crazy?”

 

Spike didn’t hesitate. He stretched out on the bed, gathering Buffy up in his arms. “It’s just all the voices,” he murmured. “If this doesn’t work—which it will—I’ll find us a place, a quiet place, and we’ll hole up there long enough for you to get this under control. Just the two of us.”

 

It was a fairy tale, a fantasy, absolutely impossible in the long run, but Buffy wanted to believe him. She fell into a restless sleep, Spike’s voice reducing everything else to a distant buzz.

 

~~~~~

 

“Have you guys found anything yet?” Giles asked as Willow timidly knocked on his office door.

 

She shook her head. “We’ve conducted some interviews, but there were a lot of people in the cafeteria yesterday, and Buffy didn’t give us much to go on.”

 

“I know.” Giles pulled off his glasses and started polishing the lenses. “You’ll continue your investigation tomorrow?”

 

“Sure thing,” Willow replied. She frowned. “Is she going to be okay?”

 

“I don’t know,” Giles admitted. “We have the recipe for the potion that ought to reverse the effects, but there is no guarantee that it will work. No one has ever been able to find all the ingredients before.”

 

“Spike will find the other demon.”

 

“I have no doubt that he will.” Giles wished he felt as certain as he sounded. Not that he doubted Spike’s abilities in the least, but even the vampire’s best efforts might not be enough this time. They had no way of knowing.

 

The phone at the desk rang, and they both started at the sound. “Mr. Giles?” Wesley called. “Mrs. Summers is on the phone.”

 

Giles stood. “We’ll have to go over there later, in case Spike—” He took a deep breath. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Willow.”

 

The girl knew a dismissal when she heard it. Willow wished that she could tell Giles it was going to be okay.

 

Willow wished she knew that her best friend was going to pull through this.

 

“See you.” She watched as Giles brushed past her, taking the phone from Wesley. Giles’ voice took on a different tone when he talked to Joyce. Willow noticed it, but she wasn’t sure what it meant.

 

“We’ll be over immediately, love,” Giles finally said.

 

Willow’s eyes widened. Buffy was not going to be happy when she found out about this.


	34. Chapter 34

**“Away with your fictions of flimsy romance,/Those tissues of falsehood which Folly has wove;/Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing glance,/Or the rapture which dwells on the first kiss of love …Oh! cease to affirm that man, since his birth,/From Adam, till now, has with wretchedness strove;/Some portion of Paradise still is on earth,/And Eden revives, in the first kiss of love./When age chills the blood, when our pleasures are past—/For years fleet away with the wings of the dove—/The dearest remembrance will still be the last,/Our sweetest memorial, the first kiss of love.” ~George Gordon, Lord Byron, “The First Kiss of Love”**

 

Hunting the demon took a lot longer than Spike wanted it to. By the time he’d left the Summers’ residence, Buffy had been asleep, but insensible. The thought that haunted him was of what might happen if the potion didn’t work.

 

He meant what he’d said, though. Spike would find a way to keep Buffy safe, even if it meant whisking her away.

 

The thing was, he didn’t want to leave Sunnydale. He would do it, but he didn’t want to.

 

Surprisingly Spike liked it here. He liked staying in one place for once in his unlife, enjoyed being able to drop in on Rupert or Joyce for a bit of conversation and a drink. Spike even liked knowing that Buffy’s friends would back him up.

 

And yet Buffy’s well-being was more important to him than anything. Spike wondered if she completely understood that.

 

It was dangerously close to dawn before Spike managed to find the demon. It was a tough bugger to kill, too, but he was a match for it. The vampire had quite a bit of aggression to work out on its flesh.

 

After the fight had taken them both around the park a few times, the demon managed to flip Spike over its back, sending him flying into a park bench. Spike rolled and came up under it, just as the demon was approaching him.

 

The knife slid up through flesh, catching on bone, and Spike stood quickly, catching its head and giving it a quick twist. The demon slumped, and Spike removed the heart with a few practiced slices, putting it in the jar that he’d brought for that purpose.

 

Not that he typically had to store demon hearts, but he had something that would do.

 

He had to make a mad dash for the Summers’ house since he’d had to hunt the demon on foot. The just-rising sun was making the back of his neck itch by the time he hit the front door, but Joyce had left it unlocked for him, so he had no trouble getting inside before he started smoking.

 

“Rupert! I’ve got it!”

 

Wesley emerged from the kitchen as Giles came down the stairs. “We’ve got the potion on the stove in the kitchen,” Wesley said.

 

Spike followed him back, watching as Wesley carefully added the glowing blue liquid to the beaker on the stove. After a few minutes of watching it, Wesley pulled it off the stove, pouring the liquid into a vial. “Careful. It’s rather warm.”

 

“Got it,” Spike replied, heading up the stairs. Joyce was standing by Buffy’s bedroom door, and she looked at him hopefully.

 

“Spike?”

 

“We’ll get her sorted, Joyce,” Spike promised, striding over to Buffy’s bedside. Buffy was tossing and turning fitfully, obviously unaware of her surroundings. “Got something for you, luv.”

 

Buffy moaned, but was otherwise unresponsive as Spike pulled her into his arms. “Drink up,” he murmured, putting the glass to her lips.

 

She tried to fight him off, but was too weak to do much. Spike patiently held the glass to her lips, waiting for her to swallow. Once he was certain she had gotten a few swallows down, Spike laid her back down on the bed, smoothing Buffy’s hair back from her face.

 

For a moment, Spike thought that all was well. Then Buffy started to convulse. Spike grabbed her shoulders, forcing Buffy to lie still. “Rupert!”

 

Giles was in the bedroom in an instant, coming over to the other side of the bed, helping Spike to hold Buffy down even though the vampire had her well under control.

 

Giles was tired of watching and waiting.

 

An eternity seemed to pass before Buffy went still and limp. Joyce was standing next to Giles, one hand on his shoulder to steady herself. “Is she—”

 

“Sleeping,” Spike murmured. “She’ll be alright.”

 

Joyce looked at Giles for confirmation, and he nodded. “I believe Spike is correct.”

 

“Would anyone like coffee?” Wesley asked quietly from the door, feeling like an intruder.

 

Joyce smiled at him warmly. “Please. Do you know where everything is?”

 

Wesley nodded. He had watched Joyce make seemingly-endless pots of coffee over the course of the night and was well-acquainted with her kitchen.

 

Once he’d gone, Spike raised an eyebrow. “Is it just me, or is Wesley a little less of a git these days?”

 

“He has his moments,” Giles responded. He reached up to take Joyce’s hand. “How are you?”

 

Joyce held on tightly. “Not looking forward to explaining what Buffy managed to overhear yesterday,” she replied, striving for a lighter note.

 

Giles managed a smile. “No, that’s not going to be fun.”

 

~~~~~

 

The first thing she noticed was the silence.

 

Blessed silence.

 

Buffy opened her eyes slowly to see Spike watching her, worry etched on his features. “Spike?”

 

“Right here, luv.”

 

“Do you hear thoughts?” Joyce asked.

 

Buffy turned her head to see her mom and Giles on the other side of her bed. If the very idea of her mom and Giles sleeping together hadn’t completely grossed her out, it would have been kind of cool. After all, Giles was more of a father to her than her own was at the moment.

 

“All is quiet.” She glared at both of them, though. “We’re going to have to have a long talk later.” Both of them had the grace to look a little embarrassed. “Have you guys found the killer yet?”

 

Giles shook his head. “Willow is leading the effort, but so far there haven’t been any results, I’m afraid.”

 

“I need to go.”

 

“Maybe you should rest,” Joyce suggested.

 

Buffy shook her head stubbornly. “I’m rested up, and I need to find that kid.” She pushed herself up off the bed. “I need to get cleaned up first, though. I probably look awful.”

 

“You’re gorgeous,” Spike said softly, his eyes meeting hers.

 

Buffy smiled. “Sweet-talker.”

 

“Only for you.”

 

“Let’s let Buffy get dressed,” Joyce said, shooing both men out of the room.

 

Buffy watched them go, wondering what she was going to say to her mom and Giles. It was weird, and she was pissed as hell they’d been hiding it for months—but she wasn’t totally unhappy about it.

 

If only she hadn’t picked up on the sex part.

 

Unfortunately, there was no time for a shower, so Buffy had to make do with a freshly washed face, ponytail, and clean clothing. Her mirror told her that she didn’t look like a complete hag, though, and Spike didn’t seem to mind.

 

Spike knew when to lie, actually, which was a talent every boyfriend should possess.

 

When she came out of the bathroom, Spike was waiting in the hall for her. “Be careful.”

 

“Always,” Buffy replied. “You staying here today?”

 

“Your mom offered me the spare room.” Spike shrugged. “I could definitely use the kip.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

He didn’t need to ask what she was thanking him for. “Anytime, luv.”

 

~~~~~

 

“You guys really did a lot,” Buffy commented, looking through the stack of interviews. “What are you going to do with all of this information?”

 

Willow’s brow creased. “I thought maybe I’d turn them into the yearbook. They make for interesting reading, and that’s what everybody thought it was for anyway.” She hesitated. “So, uh, you know about…”

 

“Mom and Giles?” Buffy asked with a sigh. “It’s so Disney-movie, it’s not even funny.” A pout formed. “Spike has known forever.”

 

“Really?” Willow squeaked. “I guess that answers the question of whether or not he can keep a secret.”

 

“Oh, he so can.” Buffy relented slightly. “To be perfectly fair, Spike said he just suspected, but I’ll bet he was pretty sure. He certainly wasn’t surprised at all.”

 

Not that Willow was going to say anything out loud, but she wasn’t all that surprised now that she thought about it. Giles and Mrs. Summers had plenty in common—like Buffy—and Buffy’s mom could be sure that Giles wasn’t an evil robot or anything like that.

 

Although Willow would never admit it out loud, she had once harbored a small—teeny—crush on the librarian. With the accent, and the books, and really not bad looking… Well, who could blame her?

 

Not that she would ever, ever admit to that out loud.

 

“Isn’t it weird that it was the cafeteria lady?” Willow asked. “I mean, I know Xander joked about it, but that was just Xander.”

 

It had been an exciting afternoon. They had been out of suspects by the time Buffy got to the school. She had seen Jonathan in the bell tower and had managed to talk him down. Xander had been the hero of the hour, though, discovering the cafeteria lady in the act of pouring rat poison into the food.

 

That had been a close call.

 

“Very weird,” Buffy agreed. “I wonder what will happen to Jonathan.”

 

Willow grimaced. “I don’t know. I mean, life can really suck sometimes, but…” She still couldn’t quite understand why someone would want to end their life.

 

Buffy, who had sometimes wished for her life to end, had a better understanding. The only difference was that she didn’t want to end it herself. There was a better than even chance that something else would end it for her.

 

She pushed herself back from the library table, knowing that she had put the conversation with Giles and her mom off for as long as she could. “I’d better get home.”

 

Willow gave her a sympathetic look. “Don’t be too hard on them, Buffy. They’re only human.”

 

Buffy gave her a sour look. “Very funny.”

 

~~~~~

 

Giles was kind enough to give her a ride home. Buffy hadn’t said much to him other than what was absolutely necessary.

 

He stopped her before she could get out of the car. “Buffy—”

 

“Let’s talk when we get inside.”

 

He sighed. “We didn’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You didn’t.” Buffy shook her head. “Let’s talk inside, okay?”

 

Spike was still at the house, and he greeted her with a kiss, needing to check her well-being, and then he diplomatically took himself out to the back porch for a smoke.

 

Silence reigned over the living room. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Buffy,” Joyce finally said. “I wasn’t sure how you would take it.”

 

“I probably would have taken it better if I hadn’t picked it up by listening to you thinking about having sex with my Watcher,” Buffy muttered rebelliously.

 

Giles turned bright red. “Yes, well…”

 

Buffy looked at her mom. “There are things I don’t want to know either.”

 

Their eyes met and held, and Joyce finally nodded. “Fair enough.”

 

“I’m going to go keep Spike company,” Buffy announced.

 

After she’d left the room, Giles turned to Joyce. “Well, that went better than I was expecting.”

 

“We have an understanding,” Joyce said. Her expression turned rueful. “Of course, what this means is that I’ve used up all my mom-points for a while. I won’t be able to get away with much more than a disapproving look the first time she comes in from being out all night.”

 

“I see,” Giles said, his eyes widening as her words struck home. “I see.” He made a face. “I suppose there really are things it’s better to remain ignorant about.”

 

“Oh, that’s been my motto for years,” Joyce said.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy sat down next to Spike on the porch just as he was flicking his butt out into the yard. “Mom’s going to make you pick that up, you know.”

 

Spike winced. “Forgot. Sorry.”

 

“Not a big deal. As long as you get it before you leave.”

 

“How are you?”

 

“Okay. Weirded out, but okay.” Buffy stared off into the darkness. “It’s just—the things I thought were never going to change are changing, and things I wanted to change aren’t going to.”

 

“Your mum and Giles?” Spike hazarded.

 

“For one.” Buffy was quiet. “I haven’t told Mom yet, but I got the acceptance letter from Northwestern. UC Sunnydale too, but—she’s going to flip about Northwestern.”

 

The name of the school meant nothing to Spike, but he assumed that it was a good one, and that it was quite a distance away. “You could still go.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “Are you kidding? With the Hellmouth being here? Maybe if Faith hadn’t gone psycho, I could have left, but I’m the Slayer, Spike. I don’t get a ‘get out of jail free’ card.”

 

“What if I stayed?”

 

She stared at him. “What?”

 

“What if I stayed? You could go off, have a normal life, go to that school.”

 

Buffy was rarely speechless, but she was in that moment. “You would do that for me?”

 

“If it would make you happy.”

 

“Do you think I should leave?” Buffy asked. “Do you want me to leave?”

 

“Bloody hell, no!” Spike said quickly. “Don’t want you to go anywhere, but that would be up to you. I’m just saying that the option is there.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Thank you, Spike, but… I don’t think it is. You can’t outrun destiny.”

 

“Suit yourself,” he replied, but he sounded pleased.

 

“It’s not so bad,” Buffy said, trying to look on the bright side. “I know the town, and I can bring laundry home for Mom to do.”

 

“That’s right,” Spike said, trying not to be hurt about the fact that she’d said nothing about him being there.

 

“And you’re here.”

 

Spike glanced over at her, realizing that she’d been teasing him by deliberately leaving him out of her list the first time around. “Thanks for mentioning that.”

 

“How could I forget with you sticking to me like glue?”

 

~~~~~

 

Faith took the box, trying to hide her excitement and her suspicion. In her experience, presents were just a way to get under your guard so that the giver could get you to do something for them later. “What’s the occasion?”

 

The Mayor smiled at her indulgently. He understood the girl better than she’d ever know. Just give her a little affection, a few words of praise, and give her something to work out her aggression on and she was completely loyal.

 

Over the last century, Mayor Wilkins had learned that it didn’t always take money to buy a person’s loyalty.

 

“As if I need an occasion to show my affection,” the Mayor replied. “Or my appreciation for running a small errand out at the airport.”

 

Her pleasure turned sour. It was as Faith had suspected; the Mayor was just trying to butter her up so he could ask for something big. “You want me to help your friend move a sofa next?” she asked, unable to hide her bitterness.

 

The Mayor reached for the box. “This isn’t a free ride, young lady. You know, I’m beginning to think someone’s getting a little spoiled. Maybe I should take this back.”

 

Faith clutched at the present. Even if he was using it to make her indebted, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t already. After all, she had a nice place to stay, and nice things in that place. The Mayor had given her a place at his side, a job to do—a job she was good at. “No, sir.”

 

“Good girl,” the Mayor said approvingly. He pushed the plate of cookies on his desk towards her. “Have a cookie.”

 

Faith obediently took a cookie and started munching on it as the Mayor explained what he wanted her to do for him. “Now there’s a package arriving tomorrow night from Central America. I can’t stress this enough—it is critically important for my Ascension. I want you to meet the transporter at the airport and pick it up. It’s vital that no one else, say Buffy or her friends, get their hands on it.” He giggled. “Now, open your present.”

 

Faith opened the box eagerly. Now that she knew what her errand was supposed to be, it really wasn’t too bad. There was definitely the prospect of a fight ahead, and Faith did love a good fight. Her eyes widened as she saw the knife. “This is a thing of beauty, boss!”

 

The Mayor smiled. “I thought you might like it. It cost a pretty penny, so I’d suggest you take good care of it.” The smile grew cruel. “And you’ll want to be careful not to put someone’s eye out with that thing. At least not until I ask you to.”


	35. Chapter 35

**“Peace flows into me/As the tide to the pool by the shore;/It is mine forevermore,/It ebbs not back like the sea./I am the pool of blue/That worships the vivid sky;/My hopes were heaven-high,/They are all fulfilled in you./I am the pool of gold/When sunset burns and dies,—/You are my deepening skies,/Give me your stars to hold.” ~Sara Teasdale, “Peace”**

 

“Hello, Spike,” Joyce said, looking up as the vampire poked his head in the back door. “Come in.”

 

Spike had seen the light in the kitchen window and come around back. “Buffy here?”

 

“No, she went to the library to talk to Giles, I believe,” Joyce replied. “She said it was important.”

 

Spike hesitated, torn between staying and trying to find the Slayer. Buffy must have left her bracelet at home, because his compass had pointed him in the direction of her house and not the school. “Why don’t you have a seat?” Joyce asked. “I’m sure she’ll be back in a little while. Were you going to meet her?”

 

He shrugged. “We hadn’t really talked about it.” What Spike didn’t say was that Buffy had been distant the last few days, enough to throw him off balance. “How are you?”

 

“Good.” Joyce started gathering what she needed to make hot chocolate.

 

“You and Rupert?”

 

“We’re fine.”

 

“Still a couple then?”

 

Joyce hesitated then sighed. “We are. It’s not easy, of course, but nothing worth doing ever is.”

 

A comfortable silence fell. Although neither one of them would have been able to completely define their relationship, they were friends at this point—as willing to simply be quiet together as they were to converse.

 

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

 

Spike knew that tone of voice. It was the same one that Buffy used right before she asked him to do something he didn’t want to do. “You can ask,” he allowed.

 

“Buffy got accepted into Northwestern.” Spike remained silent, not letting on that he already knew. “It’s a good school, Spike, but more importantly it’s not here in Sunnydale. I think she feels like she can’t go.”

 

“I see.” Spike leaned back slightly, watching her carefully, trying to decide what he might tell her. “What would you like me to do about that?”

 

“Talk to her.” There was an edge of desperation in her voice. “Tell her that you’ll stay and take care of things here.”

 

Spike took a deep, unnecessary breath. “Do you have a problem with us being together?” he asked evenly. “I didn’t think you did, but—”

 

“You’re her best hope for leaving this behind, Spike,” Joyce said. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I understand that you love her, but—”

 

“If I love her, I’d want what’s best for her.” Spike’s tone was even. He wasn’t hurt, far from it. Spike understood that Joyce wasn’t thinking about anything or anyone except Buffy. She had just witnessed her daughter nearly going insane, and Joyce wanted her baby away from this mess.

 

He couldn’t fault her for that.

 

“I already made the offer,” Spike finally said. “Buffy told me the other night that she’d been accepted. If she wants to go, I’ll stay and take care of things here, but that’s a choice she has to make.” When Joyce shook her head impatiently, Spike asked, “Have you spoken with Rupert about this?”

 

“No,” she replied. “I can’t. It’s—it’s hard, because all I want is to keep her safe, and his job is to throw her at danger.”

 

“Think you might have misinterpreted his job,” Spike said gently. “All Rupert wants is Buffy’s safety. That’s what got him fired in the first place. Wesley is a bit of a different story, but I’m working on him.”

 

Joyce frowned impatiently. “What else is a Watcher for?” she asked. “He finds danger and he sends a girl out to do it!”

 

“If the Watcher isn’t around, the girl still has a job to do.” Spike stood, taking Joyce’s hands in his own, hoping to make her see the situation just a little more objectively. It was true; Buffy needed to make a decision, and she had a choice. It was a choice only she could make, however, because it was the Slayer’s destiny she’d be trying to escape.

 

Fate was a difficult mistress at times.

 

“She’d still have all that strength, all that speed—everything she needs to be who and what she is,” Spike continued when Joyce remained silent. “The Watcher’s job is to make sure she’s got the information to do the best job she can.

 

“Buffy’s good,” he said, looking her in the eye and willing her to understand. “Good enough that there are a lot fewer dead now than there would have been without her. Maybe I could keep the Hellmouth under wraps just as well. Maybe it wouldn’t matter if she left, but Buffy’s the Slayer, and I can guarantee you that power is going to have to go somewhere. She’s not a regular girl. She never will be.”

 

Joyce blinked back tears. “Why did it have to be her?”

 

“Might as well ask why it had to be me,” Spike said, his tone wry. “I imagine my mum would have asked the same thing if she’d had the chance. Guess we all ask that question when it’s someone we love playing the hero. Couldn’t do without them, but we don’t want to see the ones we love in that position. It would be easier if all heroes could be strangers to us.”

 

She sighed, leaning her forehead on Spike’s shoulder. Not even Giles had seen the depths of her fear; she couldn’t lay that burden on him, not when Joyce knew that he carried the same heavy weight.

 

Letting Spike see her like this, however—it was easier. Moments like this, it was easy to believe that he was twice her age, if not more.

 

“I don’t want to lose her.”

 

“I know.” Spike swallowed hard. He understood Joyce’s terror better than she might think. “You won’t, if I can do anything about it. You have my word on that.”

 

~~~~~

 

“I want to leave, Giles.” Buffy was resolutely ignoring Wesley. Her erstwhile Watcher had nearly had an apoplexy when she told him she wanted out. “I got into Northwestern, and with Spike here, I don’t see why I shouldn’t be able to go.”

 

Giles nodded. “Congratulations, Buffy.”

 

“You can’t leave,” Wesley objected. “You’re the Slayer.”

 

“You’ve got a really good substitute here,” Buffy shot back. “Spike offered to stay and take care of things if I wanted to leave. Well, I want to leave. I’ll be back on breaks; it’s not like I’m never going to return.”

 

Giles took his glasses off, regarding her with a steady look. “What about Faith and the Mayor?”

 

“We both know that I might end up graduating posthumously,” Buffy replied. “It’s not like I’m leaving tomorrow. The Ascension will be over then. I’m going to stop it.”

 

“I do hope so,” Giles said.

 

Wesley shook his head. “You are the Slayer. You have a sacred duty, and that duty places you on the Hellmouth. Difficult as that may be, it’s just the way it is.” When Buffy glared at him, Wesley huffed. “You can’t leave. I absolutely forbid it.”

 

“Oh, right. That will work,” Giles muttered.

 

Buffy stared at him. “Wesley—”

 

“Perhaps if things were different,” he allowed.

 

“Then I’ll make them different,” Buffy declared.

 

“What are you talking about?” Wesley asked.

 

“I’m tired of the Mayor calling all the shots.” She frowned. “It’s time to be proactive, take the fight to him.”

 

Giles raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a plan?”

 

“Do I have to have a plan?” Buffy asked. “I was just thinking I’d be proactive with pep.”

 

Wesley was shaking his head vigorously. “I really must object. It’s too foolhardy. You’ll get yourself killed.”

 

Giles and Buffy both ignored him. “In order to take the fight to the Mayor, you’ll need to find out exactly what they’re up to,” he pointed out.

 

Buffy shrugged. “That I can do. I thought you wanted maps and stuff.”

 

Wesley realized that he’d lost this battle already. “Fine. You’re going to take the battle to him, but let me ask you this, Buffy.” When she looked over at him, Wesley said, “No matter where you go, you will still be the Slayer, and you will be handing your sacred duty to someone else.”

 

Buffy didn’t reply. She looked at Giles instead and said, “I’m going to see if I can’t figure out what Faith and the Mayor are up to tonight.”

 

“What about Spike?” Giles asked.

 

“He’ll catch up.” She was gone a moment later.

 

“You know I’m right.” Wesley faced Giles belligerantly, daring him to disagree.

 

Giles turned back to the text he’d been searching for references to the Ascension. “I know nothing of the sort.”

 

“It’s kind of Spike to offer to take her place, but you know as well as I do that he can only do so much.”

 

Giles sighed and turned to face Wesley. “Buffy might be the Slayer, but it is still her decision whether or not to stay or go. If she can work out some viable alternative to her staying in Sunnydale, then I don’t see what the problem is.”

 

Wesley huffed. “It’s just not done. A Slayer at college!”

 

“Buffy does a lot that just isn’t done.” Giles went back to his text, and left Wesley to his discontented thoughts. After all, what did a Watcher do if his Slayer was away at university?

 

~~~~~

 

Spike saw Cordelia walking by herself and frowned. He was on his way to the library since Buffy hadn’t yet shown up at her place. Spike was beginning to get concerned that he’d done something to piss the Slayer off. Not only hadn’t she worn her bracelet, but she seemed to have purposely ditched him.

 

There was no way he was going to risk Cordelia getting eaten by something nasty, though. That didn’t seem right.

 

He pulled up to the curb. “You want a ride?”

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be mooning around after Buffy?” Cordelia asked, sounding even more snippy than usual.

 

Spike shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He put the car into gear.

 

“Wait!” Cordelia sighed. Spike really hadn’t done anything bad to her. Not that she had a problem taking out her frustration on him, but a ride would be nice. “Thanks for stopping.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “It’s a bit lonely to be out by yourself after dark, and it’s not safe.” Teasing her, he added, “Especially not for an appealing morsel like yourself.”

 

Cordelia smiled in spite of herself. It felt like it had been days since she’d smiled. Her parents were still hanging onto the house, but it was only by their fingertips. She just hoped they managed to keep it until after graduation since she wasn’t sure where she’d go otherwise. “You’d better not let your girlfriend catch you talking like that.”

 

“Man doesn’t go blind just because he’s dating somebody.” Spike turned into one of the classier neighborhoods. “How’ve you been, pet?”

 

Cordelia resolutely reined in her emotions. “Me? I’m great.”

 

Spike could hear the brittleness that infused her voice, but he wasn’t going to push it. Girls like Cordelia didn’t react well to being pushed. “Good to hear.”

 

She leaned back into the passenger seat of Spike’s car. Of course, she hadn’t asked anyone for a ride. How could she when she was supposed to have a car of her own?

 

Maybe she was the queen of gossip, but Cordelia knew how to keep her mouth shut, aware of how everyone would react when they found out that the IRS was coming after her parents for tax evasion.

 

Spike followed her directions and pulled up in front of a large house with a “For Sale” sign in the yard. “You planning on moving?”

 

Cordelia looked up to see the sign. It hadn’t been there when she left in the morning. “Yeah. My parents are looking for a different house. Bigger, you know.”

 

Spike didn’t buy it for a minute, and he made a mental note to look out for the chit. Cordelia might be a tactless bitch, but she had guts. Spike admired that in a girl. “Good luck on that.”

 

“Thanks for the ride.” Cordelia got out and shut the door behind her, leaning down to look through the window. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah, pet?”

 

“Don’t say anything about the house, okay? It’s not a big deal, but—”

 

“You got it.” He smiled at her. “My lips are sealed.”

 

Cordelia nodded, realizing that he knew she wasn’t telling him everything and appreciating the fact that he wasn’t pushing it. “Thanks.”

 

Spike watched as she walked up to the front door, waiting to be sure she made it inside before pulling away. He could smell the fear in the girl, which was what made her poker face all the more impressive.

 

He sighed. It seemed as though he wasn’t going to be through keeping secrets for people anytime soon.

 

~~~~~

 

“Spike. There you are.”

 

“You call, I come,” Spike said, looking around the library. “Where’s Buffy?”

 

“She’s getting some things together,” Giles replied. “We’re going into City Hall tonight to retrieve the box, and—”

 

Spike held up a hand, cutting him off in mid-sentence. “We’re doing _what_?”

 

Giles straightened from the map he was reading. “Buffy didn’t tell you?”

 

“I haven’t talked to Buffy since she got that demon blood out of her system,” Spike said, beginning to sound rather put out. “I’m beginning to think that she’s avoiding me. What’s going on?”

 

Giles frowned, put down his pen, and gave Spike his full attention. “Buffy didn’t talk to you about this? She wants to take the fight to the Mayor’s turf. I thought—she said she wanted to find a way to leave Sunnydale.”

 

Hurt flashed across Spike’s features before he managed to clamp down on his emotions. “Right. Because I offered to stick around. That’s good, yeah? She should have a chance to get out of this place.”

 

“Hey, Spike!” Willow entered the library with Xander close on her heels. “I’m glad you could come.”

 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his voice tight.

 

Buffy entered with Wesley, both of them arguing over the plan. “There are too many risks.”

 

“Risk is part of the business,” Buffy replied. “Get used to it, Wes.” She froze when she saw Spike. “Hey.”

 

“’lo.”

 

Willow looked from the vampire to the Slayer, sensing the sudden spike in tension. “So, do we have a plan?”

 

“Why don’t you fill me in, Red?” Spike suggested, not taking his eyes off of Buffy. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and you’re talented at that sort of thing.”

 

Buffy winced as he turned on his heel. Willow glanced at her friend, and Buffy nodded, indicating that Willow should go ahead and explain what was going on. “So Spike didn’t realize you were so keen to leave town, eh?” Wesley asked in an undertone.

 

“None of your business, Wes,” Buffy snapped.

 

“I’m your Watcher, Buffy, as I’ve often had to remind you,” he shot back, keeping his voice low. “Don’t forget that Spike is an invaluable ally. Screw up your love life all you like, but if you alienate him completely you could end up dooming us all.”

 

Buffy stared after him, anger etched on her face. That had been a much better shot than Wesley was typically capable of producing. Apparently, he was improving. She felt a touch on her arm and saw Xander standing there. “Buffy…”

 

“I’m fine, Xan.”

 

Xander just looked at her, obviously not buying it. “Buffy, you’re not wearing your bracelet.”

 

He walked over to the table, and Buffy looked down at her bare wrist with a pang. She had taken it off to shower, and then had forgotten to put it back on again. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but it would certainly explain why Spike hadn’t shown up anywhere she was last night.

 

It might also explain why he was looking so royally pissed off.

 

Buffy sighed. It looked like she was going to have some explaining to do.

 

~~~~~

 

The ride to City Hall probably would have been uncomfortable, but Wesley started asking Spike questions about what he knew of becoming immortal. It filled up the silence inside the confines of the vehicle admirably, but Buffy was still feeling squirmy.

 

Not only had she not called Spike in the last couple days, she also hadn’t worn the bracelet he gave her, nor had she told him about wanting to leave Sunnydale. In fact, when he made the offer to stay, she had been adamantly against leaving.

 

He probably thought she was trying to break up with him. She was a bad girlfriend.

 

And Spike had just killed a demon for her, too.

 

“You lot be careful,” Giles admonished as they climbed out of the van. “First sign of trouble—”

 

“We run like the wind,” Willow chirped. “Got it.”

 

Wesley held up his watch. “I think we ought to synchronize our watches. I have twenty-one forty-one.” He stopped when Buffy and Willow held up bare wrists. “Typical.”

 

“I’ve got the same time,” Spike said, hitching his bag over his shoulder so it hung more securely. “Let’s go.”

 

The two girls followed the vampire to the side of the building. Spike jumped, grabbing the bottom rung of the fire ladder and swinging his body until it came rattling down. “Ladies first.”

 

Willow started climbing. Buffy paused at the bottom. “Spike—”

 

“We have a job to do, Slayer.”

 

“But—”

 

“Later.”

 

Buffy realized that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with Spike at the moment, so she began climbing, feeling the ladder tremble slightly when Spike started up behind her. Once on the roof, they made their way over to the skylight. The vampire pulled it open, watching as Willow took a bottle of sand from Buffy.

 

She chanted quietly in Latin, then sprinkled what Spike could only assume was magic sand. He might have been clearer on what it was if anyone had seen fit to fill him in.

 

The force field around the box flared briefly and then disappeared altogether. Willow grinned. “Oh, yeah. I’m bad.”

 

“Gold star, Will,” Buffy murmured. “Now get going.”

 

“I’m gone,” she replied, heading over to the ladder.

 

Buffy looked at Spike. “Ready?”

 

“And able,” Spike said evenly. “Let’s get this done.”

 

Buffy buckled the harness on quickly then lowered herself through the skylight, feeling the slow give of the winch. She hung, dropping down in a slow, steady pace, like a spider on its thread. When the box was in reach, Buffy picked it up, hugging it to her chest.

 

Of course, then the alarm started going off.

 

Buffy felt a jerk on the line, but she wasn’t moving. “Spike!”

 

“I’m working on it!” She could hear him cursing, and then felt herself being pulled up. This time it wasn’t with the smooth assistance of the winch. Instead, she was lifted about six inches every time she moved, with a sharp jerk.

 

Three vampires burst through the conference room doors. “Spike! I’ve got company.”

 

Buffy felt him give her a huge pull, jerking her up, out of the vampires’ reach. Spike’s hand clamped down on the back of her jacket, and he yanked her through the skylight. One of the vampires immediately tried to follow, and when he jumped, his hands catching on the sill, Spike casually stomped on his fingers, crushing them under the heel of his boot.

 

Waiting until the vampire had dropped down, Spike slammed the skylight shut. Buffy thrust the box at him, scrambling out of her harness and over to the fire escape.

 

Spike dropped down from the roof, landing lightly on his feet, waiting patiently for Buffy on the ground. They moved as one person towards the idling van.

 

It wasn’t until Spike slid the passenger door shut that either of them noticed something was wrong. Buffy looked around the interior. “Uh, where’s Willow?”


	36. Chapter 36

**“Thorns, shattered glass, sickness, crying: all day/they attack the honied contentment. And neither the tower,/nor the walls, nor secret passageways are of much help./Trouble seeps through, into the sleepers’ peace./Sorrow rises and falls, comes near with its deep spoons,/and no one can live without this endless motion;/without it there would be no birth, no roof, no fence,/It happens: we have to account for it…” ~Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet LV”**

 

Neither Spike nor Buffy particularly wanted to go back to the school, since that would mean leaving Willow in the clutches of Faith and the Mayor. There wasn’t much of a choice, however, since they didn’t know how well city hall would be guarded, or where Willow would be held.

 

It was too dangerous for Willow for them to go charging in on a rescue mission.

 

Spike hated being the bearer of bad news, though. He hated the expression on Oz’s face when they told him and Xander that Willow had been caught. “We’re going to fix this,” Buffy said. “Oz, I swear we’re going to get her back.”

 

“We go back,” Xander said, uncharacteristically serious. “Full-out assault.”

 

Spike shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. They’ll see us coming, and they’ll kill her.”

 

“They know how much she means to us,” Buffy agreed. “And we have something they want.”

 

“You can’t be serious!” Wesley objected. “That box is key to the Mayor’s Ascension. If you give it back to him you’ll be putting the lives of everyone you love at risk.”

 

Xander glared at him. “This is Willow we’re talking about. I call that a fair trade.”

 

“The box must be destroyed!” Wesley insisted. He yelped as Spike slammed him back against the wall. “Spike, surely you see—”

 

“What I see is that we have a very simple choice,” he growled. “We can lose Willow now and stop the Mayor now, or we can get Willow back now and stop the Mayor later. I vote we stop the Mayor later.”

 

Wesley glared at him. “You’re not in charge here, even if you’d like to believe you are. You are—”

 

“Absolutely right.” Buffy’s voice was cold. “Spike is right. We stop the Mayor later. Maybe we’re back to square one, but I’m thinking Willow being alive makes up for that.”

 

Wesley shook himself free of Spike’s grip, turning to Giles. “Mr. Giles, surely you will talk some sense into them. There’s a duty that must be done here, and—”

 

Spike had seen Oz quietly go over to the pot they needed for the ceremony to destroy the Box of Gavrock. He’d been fairly certain that the boy was going to make the argument moot, and Spike had kept his mouth shut even though he could have stopped him.

 

After all, he’d probably do the same thing if it had been Buffy in the Mayor’s clutches.

 

Even if he was brassed off at the chit.

 

The crash silenced the crowd. Oz didn’t even say anything; he just took his seat at the table again.

 

Buffy set her jaw, turning to Giles. “Make the call.”

 

~~~~~

 

Willow was fairly sure that she didn’t like being in danger. At the same time, even through her dry mouth and rocketing heartbeat, she couldn’t regret it. Not when she didn’t fold, and not when she had gotten some alone-time with the Books of Ascension, plus a few torn pages. If she made it out alive, Giles was going to be thrilled.

 

She didn’t doubt that she would make it out alive. Willow knew that Buffy would either come after her, or they would make a trade for her. She trusted Buffy—and Spike. They were both really good at the hero-thing.

 

In fact, Willow was beginning to think that she might want to give being a hero a go. She could go to any university in America, and several in Europe, but what she most wanted was right here in Sunnydale.

 

Here, she got to help save the world on occasion. Plus, there was Oz, whom she didn’t want to leave behind, and her friends. Buffy would probably end up staying, and Spike was sticking around. Xander would still be here, at least after he got back from his trip around the 50 states.

 

Besides, if she went off to one of those big schools, Willow knew she’d be one smart girl among a hundred. In Sunnydale, she would be the big fish with the opportunity to be a real kick-ass Wicca.

 

So, by the time the Mayor told Faith that he’d made a deal to get his box back, Willow had figured out which college she was going to.

 

It was funny how clear things got when people were threatening to kill you.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike shifted from foot to foot. He didn’t like this, didn’t like the fact that they were actually going to make the trade, didn’t like the idea that they were going to trust the Mayor and Faith to do as they promised.

 

The bad guys never kept their promises. He knew that from experience.

 

There didn’t seem to be another way to do it, though, and Spike was ready to take action if necessary. At the first sign of foul play, he would show the Mayor just how quick a vampire could be. He’d have Willow safe and Faith dead in a heartbeat.

 

“It’s all locked up tight,” Oz declared, checking the last door.

 

Xander grimaced, giving his baseball bat an experimental swing. “That doesn’t make me feel trapped.”

 

“One way out means one way in,” Buffy said. “I want to see them coming.”

 

As if her words summoned them, the lights went out, throwing the cafeteria into darkness. Spike shifted immediately, the better to see by.

 

The unlocked doors flew open, and two vampires walked through, followed closely by the Mayor and then Faith with Willow in tow. The Mayor stepped out into the middle of the room, and Buffy moved to meet him.

 

Mayor Wilkins grinned like a kid. “Well, this is exciting! Clandestine meetings in the middle of the night—I feel like we should all be wearing trench coats.”

 

“Let her go,” Buffy ordered.

 

The Mayor shook his head. “Not until I have my box.”

 

Spike stepped out of the shadows. “Here it is. Come and get it.”

 

Mayor Wilkins looked over at Faith who moved forward, dragging Willow along with her. She snatched the box out of Spike’s hands at the same time that he made a grab for Willow, thrusting her behind him. “So this is the famous Spike,” the Mayor observed as the transaction was taking place. “Somehow I thought you’d be taller.”

 

“What can I say?” Spike replied. “Compact works better in my line of work.”

 

The Mayor’s expression remained affable, but his eyes narrowed. “I can imagine. Somehow I can’t imagine that you and a nice girl like Buffy have much in common. You’re a killer, a mercenary. You fight for the highest bidder, and she has a sacred destiny.” He looked at Buffy. “Where’s he going to be when the money runs out?”

 

Buffy glared at him. “That’s none of your business.”

 

“And what happens when you start getting older and Spike stays the same age?” Mayor Wilkins asked. “You know, I married my Edna May in ought-three, and I was with her right up until the end. Not a pretty picture, I can tell you. Wrinkled and senile and cursing me for my youth.”

 

“What makes you think I’ll survive to die of old age?” Buffy asked. “After all, I’ve died once already.”

 

Whatever else the Mayor might have said was cut off by Snyder’s entrance and all hell breaking loose.

 

The policeman who ended up holding the box had apparently never heard of Pandora, since he let his curiosity get the best of him. The demon-spider leaped from the box onto his face, and his screams alerted the rest of the room to the fact that something was loose. Thankfully, the box fell in such a way as to prevent any more of the creatures from escaping.

 

Spike was not terribly fond of spiders. It wasn’t a phobia—he just didn’t like them. Seeing the giant, spider-like thing coming out of the box was going to have his skin crawling for days.

 

It didn’t help that the thing had disappeared into the darkened room after the policeman collapsed. Spike felt sorry for the man, but at the same time he felt it served him right for peeking into a closed box when he had no idea what might be inside.

 

Of course, that left the rest of them to deal with the creature, with no hint as to its whereabouts.

 

Spike could hear Wesley’s whimpers behind him, but he ignored the man, concentrating instead on trying to locate the thing. “Do you hear it?” Buffy murmured.

 

“No, I—” Spike felt the thing drop down on his back, and he let out a startled, “Bloody hell!”

 

“Spike!” Buffy quickly yanked it off, throwing it against one wall where it left a slimy trail as it slid to the floor.

 

“I wouldn’t leave that box open,” the Mayor warned as another spider-like creature tried to skitter out.

 

Faith hurried over to the box, slamming the lid shut and smashing the creature. She gathered the box up in her arms, backing away from Buffy and the rest of them.

 

“Is that all of them?” Oz asked.

 

“Uh, no,” the Mayor said cheerfully. “There’s about fifty billion of those little suckers in there. Raise your hands if you’re invulnerable.” There was no reply. “No? Well, we’ll just be going then.”

 

The vampire guards scrambled out the door just ahead of the Mayor, and the remaining police officer followed close on Mayor Wilkins’ heels. Only Snyder remained behind, staring at them. “Snyder? You in there?” Buffy asked.

 

Snyder glared at all of them impartially. “You! Why can’t you all be selling drugs like normal students?” He turned on his heel and left.

 

As the others turned to make sure Willow was okay, Spike slipped back into the shadows and then out the door. There was no need for him to stay.

 

Not tonight, anyway.

 

~~~~~

 

The euphoria over Willow choosing to stay in Sunnydale for college was dimmed by the knowledge that Spike wasn’t talking to her.

 

When Buffy realized that he’d left the cafeteria without a word to anyone, she had immediately called his cell phone in spite of the lateness of the hour.

 

He hadn’t answered.

 

Buffy called the next day during her lunch period, and Spike still didn’t answer. She had made sure to wear her bracelet, and she wanted to be sure that he was going to be at home before she came over after school.

 

She wasn’t sure what to do at this point. Buffy could let Spike be, or she could try talking to him. The Slayer had the feeling that the more mature response would probably be to talk it out, but she really would rather avoid that at all costs.

 

But she missed him. A lot.

 

That was why she wound up on his doorstep as soon as she had loaded up on mochas with Willow, pounding on the door when Spike didn’t answer right away. “Come on, Spike, I know you’re there,” she muttered, not quite ready to start yelling at him and risk the neighbors noticing.

 

Technically, Buffy didn’t actually know that Spike was there, since he had been known to go out occasionally during the day. He might be running an errand or looking for information on the Mayor’s Ascension, or any number of other things.

 

Or he could just be refusing to talk to her.

 

Buffy tried banging on the door one more time, deciding that if Spike still wouldn’t answer, she’d just go home.

 

“Will you shut the hell up?” Spike demanded, jerking the door open and glaring at her. “Some of us are trying to sleep!”

 

Buffy winced. Spike was shirtless, barefoot, and his hair was tousled, which meant that she’d definitely made him get up. Probably not the best way to begin a conversation.

 

Of course, he looked hot. Really hot.

 

“Sorry.”

 

Still frowning, he asked, “So what’s so important?”

 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Buffy replied. “You didn’t stick around last night, and—”

 

“You didn’t need me there. Red was safe and the job was done.” Spike turned on his heel and stalked back into the dim interior, but he left the door open behind him, and Buffy took that as an invitation to enter.

 

“Spike, I—”

 

“Are we done?” he asked, a mixture of anger and hurt and defeat in his tone. “Is that what this means, Slayer, because I don’t have a sodding clue as to what you want.”

 

Buffy fidgeted, her fingers playing with the bracelet he’d given her. “We’re not done, Spike. Not unless you want to be.”

 

“You’re going off, aren’t you?” Spike asked. “To some fancy school?”

 

She laughed bitterly. “I was fooling myself. I’m the Slayer, this is the Hellmouth. I don’t get a ‘get out of jail free’ card.” Buffy wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I thought you were okay with me leaving.”

 

“Okay?” Spike asked. “Not okay. I’d do it if that’s what you really wanted, but you said you wanted to stay.” The words came out as an accusation, but Spike wasn’t sure he wanted to take that back. “You said you wanted to stay, and then—I couldn’t find you.”

 

There was more to his words than the simple statement of fact. Buffy hadn’t been wearing her charm, and Spike hadn’t been able to locate her. It was about her saying one thing and doing another without giving Spike a heads-up. It was about shutting him out.

 

It was about them living in different worlds, like the Mayor had said. The difference was that the Mayor had no idea what they were willing to give up to be together.

 

In truth, neither Buffy nor Spike knew the answer to that themselves.

 

Buffy couldn’t have articulated any of that, but she understood it at the same gut-level that Spike seemed to understand her. Not that she always managed to do her best for the people around her. Buffy knew—based on the very occasional flash of insight—that she could be really self centered. She could take the people she loved most for granted. It was a measure of her trust for Spike that she believed that he would always be there.

 

It was a measure of her love that she couldn’t imagine him not being around.

 

“I’m sorry.” Buffy hated apologizing, but she knew she wasn’t going to get out of it this time. What she wasn’t able to say was that it had largely been about watching Willow dithering over all her opportunities to go to any school in the world. It had been Cordelia’s snide comments about how Buffy was never going to go anywhere, because there would always be the Hellmouth to guard. It had been the natural desire of an adolescent to get away from home, to go somewhere new. She had wanted that, or thought she had.

 

But she didn’t know how to put any of it into words.

 

Spike didn’t appear to be mollified in the least. “Wish you would tell me these things, at least.” There were the faint signs of a pout on his face. “I don’t bloody well intuit these things, Buffy. You can’t expect me just to read your mind and know what’s going on.”

 

“I know.” She winced, knowing that she hadn’t done very well by Spike. “I really am sorry.”

 

“Yeah, well…” He trailed off, running a hand through his already-tousled hair, seeming not to know how to take her apology, or what to say next.

 

Buffy cleared her throat. “I woke you up. I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” Spike replied.

 

They were suddenly back in the awkward stage again, as if they hadn’t long since grown out of it. “I should go.”

 

“You don’t have to.” Spike spoke quickly, not sure why he wanted her to stay, but not wanting her to go either. He was still angry, but he’d missed her company.

 

Buffy hesitated. “Do you just want to watch TV or something? I mean, you could maybe get a nap in, and I’ll just stay for a while.”

 

“That’d be alright,” Spike replied, trying to sound as if it didn’t make any difference at all whether or not she stayed or went. As though he hadn’t just asked her to stick around.

 

As though his eyes didn’t reveal his longing. Spike never had been all that good at concealing his emotions. His eyes gave him away every time when it came to matters of the heart.

 

That’s why he’d liked doing business so much. The heart didn’t have to get involved.

 

“Okay, then I’ll—” Buffy stopped and muttered. “Oh, the hell with it.”

 

She had crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, pulling his head down and kissing him before Spike had a chance to figure out what she was doing. He had been standing there looking so good—she just wanted a taste.

 

Spike returned her kiss hungrily, his tongue meeting her own. Her hands were doing some wandering, as were his, and when she pulled away briefly to catch her breath, Spike took a step back. “What are we doing, Buffy?”

 

“We were kissing,” she replied. “And we were doing a really good job of it. Could we resume?”

 

He frowned. “I’m still pissed off.”

 

Buffy sighed. “Then no kisses?”

 

She was pouting, and Spike felt himself softening ever-so-slightly. “Don’t spring that kind of thing on me again.” He glared at her, showing no sign that his anger was fading. “You can’t just decide what you’re going to do and expect me to go along with it.”

 

“I’m the Slayer, Spike,” Buffy shot back, stung. “That’s what I do. I make decisions and plans, and then we carry them out.”

 

Spike shook his head. “No, luv. _We_ make decisions and plans, and then we carry them out. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know what’s going on, and I can’t be your partner if you’re the one who’s always leading.” He set his jaw stubbornly, knowing that she could easily tell him to sod off. “And I won’t accept less than a partnership, Buffy. Done the other, and it nearly killed me.”

 

Buffy wanted to argue, but Spike had a point. She didn’t want him to have a point, but from the expression on his face, he wasn’t going to accept less than an equal partnership. If she tried to run roughshod over him, she might still have a patrolling partner, but she wouldn’t have a boyfriend.

 

She didn’t want to lose either.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“You’re right.” Buffy nearly choked on the words. She _really_ didn’t like admitting that she was wrong, no matter who she was doing the admitting to. “Leaving you out of the loop is a bad idea.” He raised an eyebrow. “And if I forget my bracelet at home again I’ll at least give you a call.”

 

Spike’s face softened completely, the look in his eyes almost tender. “Don’t want to keep you on a short leash, pet. That’s not what this is about. We both have our own lives. Right now, though, with everything that’s going on, I think we need to stick close together.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath, leaning in towards him, feeling a sense of relief when his arms came around her. “I want you close,” she admitted.

 

“Glad to hear it.” Spike kissed her, his caresses creating a slow burn between the two of them. He wasn’t deluding himself; Buffy would try to shut him out again. That was just the way she was. Now, however, Spike had a promise that he could remind her about the next time she tried it.

 

No matter how much you might love someone, it never hurt to have a little leverage.


	37. Chapter 37

**“My heart is like a singing bird/Whose nest is in a watered shoot;/My heart is like an apple-tree/Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;/My heart is like a rainbow shell/That paddles in a halcyon sea;/My heart is gladder than all these/Because my love is come to me./Raise me a dais of silk and down;/Hang it with vair and purple dyes;/Carve it in doves and pomegranates,/And peacocks with a hundred eyes;/Work it in gold and silver grapes,/ In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;/Because the birthday of my life/Is come, my love is come to me.” ~Christina Rossetti, “A Birthday”**

 

Oz was fairly certain that dating Willow had taken at least fifteen years off of his life. There had been the time that she’d nearly gotten burned to death, then the time she’d shown up as a vampire, and now this latest debacle with Faith and the Mayor.

 

And that was just this school year. There had been plenty of close calls last year too.

 

The only reason he’d allowed Willow to go home by herself last night was because it was too late to do anything else. Late enough that it didn’t even make much sense to go to bed, since they would both soon have to get up for school.

 

He had band practice the next night, and so it was late evening before Oz managed to meet Willow at the school library. They were all spending as much time researching the Mayor’s Ascension as they could, especially given the fact that it seemed inevitable at this point.

 

Oz couldn’t regret making the trade, though. Not when Willow sat next to him, throwing occasional glances in his direction. In response, Oz entwined his fingers with hers.

 

“Have you gotten your dress yet?” Buffy whispered, obviously trying to avoid bringing the wrath of Giles down on them.

 

Willow shook her head. “I haven’t even started looking. What about you?”

 

Buffy made a face. “I don’t know if I’m going.”

 

“What?” Willow’s exclamation had Giles glaring at them.

 

“If you two can’t research, then don’t distract the rest of us,” he snapped.

 

Willow and Buffy ducked their heads, starting their conversation up again as soon as it looked like Giles wasn’t paying attention to them. “What?” Willow repeated, quietly this time.

 

Buffy shrugged. “I haven’t talked to Spike about it, and I don’t know if he’d even want to go.”

 

“But it’s our last prom!” Willow protested in a whisper. “You have to go!”

 

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Buffy said, trying to sound like it really didn’t matter to her.

 

Willow put on her resolve face. “Yes, it is. You’re going. Oz will help.”

 

Oz had been a silent participant up to this point, and now he raised an eyebrow. “I will?”

 

“Won’t you?” Willow cajoled. “You can help Spike find a tux.”

 

He shrugged. “As long as Spike is okay with it.”

 

“He’ll be okay with it,” Willow stated. Oz didn’t bother asking how she was going to make sure of that. His girlfriend was wearing her resolve face, and that usually meant she got what she wanted.

 

It was probably a good thing he thought that a determined Willow was adorable.

 

~~~~~

 

“Willow.” Spike stepped back from the doorway. “To what do I owe this honor?”

 

The vampire was apparently in a very good mood. Willow had noticed that he was usually either all business or surly when he wasn’t happy. Spike only teased when he had cause to be cheerful. Willow was glad to see it, since that would make her job easier.

 

“I need to talk to you.”

 

“Figured that.” He started off towards the kitchen. “Tea?”

 

“Um, sure,” she replied, trailing along behind him. “Prom is coming up.”

 

Spike glanced over his shoulder at her. “Prom?”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that innocent act. I know you’ve seen enough movies to know exactly what a prom is. You’re not that out of touch with pop culture.”

 

Spike’s lips twitched, and he started filling the kettle. “Fancy dresses, monkey-suits, bad music, concentration of hormones. Right?”

 

Willow didn’t argue. She merely added, “And a teenage rite of passage. Ours is coming up. You need to take Buffy.”

 

“I do, huh?”

 

“Don’t play dumb, Spike!” Willow scolded. “Every other dance has been completely ruined for her. Spring Fling was when the Master showed up, the ghosts and Angelus pretty much killed the Sadie Hawkins dance, Homecoming was SlayerFest…” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you getting the picture?”

 

Spike decided that Willow was not going to react well to teasing. She was too intent on her goal of getting him to agree to take Buffy to prom. Honestly, it wasn’t something that had even crossed his mind, simply because it wasn’t on his radar screen. Since Buffy hadn’t said anything to him about it, he hadn’t thought about it.

 

He sat down across from her at the table. “So what do you want me to do?”

 

“I want you to make sure Buffy has the best prom ever,” Willow replied. “And a tux is required. I already asked Oz, and he said he’d help you rent one.”

 

Spike laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “I know how to get my hands on a tux, pet. This won’t be the first occasion I’ve had to go to a black-tie affair. Right before I came to Sunnydale, I—” Spike broke off, realizing that the story was probably not one he ought to be telling to an impressionable young girl. “Point is, I can get a tux.”

 

Willow wasn’t sure she trusted him to get it right. “You should take Oz along just in case,” she suggested.

 

“If you like,” Spike said, not too bothered one way or the other. The werewolf was good company. “Anything else I ought to know about?”

 

“Tickets,” Willow said, suddenly remembering. “You’ll need to get tickets. Or Buffy could get them, but—”

 

“Let me guess,” Spike interrupted. “It’s traditional for the bloke to purchase them.”

 

Willow nodded. “Oh, and a corsage, you know. Maybe dinner before if you can manage it.”

 

“I can manage all manner of things, Red,” Spike replied. “How about I get you the money, and you can get the tickets for me?”

 

She smiled, relieved that she hadn’t even had to pull out her resolve face to convince him. “Okay,” she said. Willow paused. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah?” he said, pouring the tea for both of them.

 

She frowned. “How come you didn’t argue about this?”

 

Spike sighed. “Buffy—she’s never going to be your typical girl, yeah? And I figure she’ll miss out on enough of the things your typical girl gets to do, including having a normal boyfriend.” He smiled wistfully. “If I can give her a nice evening—why not? Besides, it’ll be nice to be the bloke with the most gorgeous girl on my arm. Haven’t had many chances for that.”

 

Willow gave him a sharp look. “What were you like when you were a human, Spike?”

 

“Wasn’t that special,” Spike replied, and the look in his eyes made it very clear that he wasn’t giving out any more information on that front. “Let’s just say that I never made it to any fancy parties with a girl on my arm.”

 

Willow felt a sudden kinship with Spike. She’d often gotten the impression that he was just like her and Xander and the rest under the surface. It made her like him even more. “I’ll get the tickets for you.”

 

“Thanks, Red,” Spike replied. “And thanks for letting me know about this. Wouldn’t have wanted Buffy to miss this because I was a git.”

 

Willow just raised an eyebrow. “I’m counting on you to make it a good night.”

 

“Oh, I’m planning on it,” Spike replied, his expression very much like that of a cat contemplating a saucer of cream. “It’ll be a night she won’t forget.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike gave Oz a wry look as he exited his house. “So Willow got you roped into this, too?”

 

The boy shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal, and it’ll make her happy.”

 

“That’s what it’s about,” Spike murmured. “Making them happy.”

 

Oz smiled. “It’s worth it.”

 

“It certainly will be,” Spike said. “Xander coming?”

 

Oz shook his head. “He’s got his own guy he’s getting a tux from. I think they’re related somehow.”

 

Spike raised his eyebrows. “Is that safe?”

 

The only visible sign of amusement was the twinkle in Oz’s eyes, and you had to look closely to catch that. “I don’t know, but knowing his date, he’d better come up to scratch.”

 

“Who’s he taking?” Spike asked, more out of idle curiosity than any real desire to know. “Not Cordelia.”

 

“She’s got her eye on Wesley.” Oz ignored Spike’s snort of amusement. “Xander’s taking Anya.”

 

Spike frowned, trying to remember if he’d ever met her. “Do I know her?”

 

“She’s new, so probably not.” His lips twitched. “She said she found Xander less repulsive than any of the other guys at school.”

 

Oz knew his audience; Spike nearly lost it. “She said that? And he’s going with her? Is the boy that desperate?”

 

He shrugged. “It was Anya or no one. She used to be a vengeance demon or something.”

 

Spike lifted an eyebrow. He’d met a few vengeance demons in his time. He’d even spent a couple of nights with one back in the ‘30’s. They had both been in between assignments, and it had been nice to pass the time with a woman who knew who and what he was. Since she focused mainly on lovers who were cheated on—of either sex—they got on quite well.

 

“Huh. Lost her powers then? Tough luck.”

 

Oz didn’t argue. Although he didn’t think anyone was sorry that there was one less demon to worry about, Spike had a unique perspective that the rest of them lacked. For his part, Oz wouldn’t have minded shedding his darker half. The wolf was never something he was comfortable with.

 

Their conversation basically ended when they reached the formalwear store. Oz had ostensibly gone along to help Spike, but the vampire was obviously an old hand. They were in and out in a little over a half hour, and Oz couldn’t resist satisfying his own curiosity when they’d left. “I thought Willow said you needed help.”

 

Spike smirked. “Red _thought_ I needed help.” He hesitated, deciding that what he probably shouldn’t tell Willow could be confided in Oz. “Last job I did before I came required showing up at a black-tie event. Never pays to buy your clothes for that kind of thing because there’s always a good chance it’ll get ruined.”

 

“Makes sense,” Oz commented.

 

Spike was warming up to his story now. “Anyway, I needed a date to look authentic so I hired a girl. Didn’t have much in the way of brains, you know, but she looked good.” He made a face. “I should have asked for a smart one.”

 

Oz raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

 

“So I left the girl by the bar with strict instructions to wait for me there,” Spike said. “Bought her a drink to keep her occupied and went off to find my target. I had to do a bit of maneuvering to get him alone, since he was a vamp and watching somebody dust tends to rile the crowds.”

 

“True.” Oz well remembered watching his first vampire dust, although he couldn’t say that he was “riled.” More like interested.

 

“Found him, staked him, and then this screaming started up.” Spike shook his head. “Stupid bint had followed me, and she brought the whole place down on us. Had to fight my way out of there, and I had to fight her too while I was at it since she thought I was some kind of freak. Finally had to knock her out just so I could think. Ended up completely ruining that tux.” He grimaced. “Didn’t even get paid for the job. Bloody bastards said the deal was for me to get out clean.”

 

Oz frowned. “What happened to your date?”

 

“Dumped her in a hotel room with the cash for the night.” Spike shrugged. “Figured she’d explain it all away. By all rights, I shouldn’t have had to pay the chit. She was the one who cost me my fee.”

 

Oz didn’t think it was so strange that Spike had paid the woman, even if he grumbled about it. He had a pretty good idea of Spike’s character at this point, and he got the sense that the vampire wouldn’t leave somebody behind, and he wouldn’t cheat them out of what they were due.

 

At the same time, Spike would probably have no difficulty cheating at cards. It was a conundrum.

 

“Have you talked to Buffy about going yet?” Oz asked.

 

Spike shook his head. “Figured we’d get around to discussing it tonight.” He checked his watch. “I’m supposed to be meeting her about now anyway.”

 

Oz could see that Spike was impatient to be off, since he was bouncing on his toes. “I’ve got to get to practice.”

 

“Willow going to be there?” Spike asked with a knowing grin.

 

Oz smiled. “Yeah. I’ve got my own groupie now.”

 

Their eyes met in shared understanding—two men who were hopelessly in love with their girls. In the end, nothing more needed to be said.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t like Spike to keep her waiting on his porch. She was beginning to wonder if she shouldn’t just start patrol without him. It wasn’t as though he wouldn’t be able to track her tonight.

 

She shook her wrist, feeling the cool silver hit the back of her hand. Knowing what she did, Buffy wasn’t about to leave it at home again. Not unless she had to for some reason, or Spike was with her.

 

Sighing, Buffy gave up, turning to go.

 

“Buffy!” Spike came jogging up the walk. “Sorry I’m late, luv. Had to run an errand.”

 

She smiled, relieved. “No biggie.”

 

“I’d have called to let you know, but you’re not the one with a cell phone,” Spike teased.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. “Talk to my mom. She’s the one in charge of that sort of thing.”

 

“Might be able to arrange something,” Spike said nonchalantly. “I could point out how useful it would be in emergencies.”

 

“If you can talk her into that, you will be a miracle worker,” Buffy replied, falling into step next to him. “So what was your errand?”

 

“Had to get a tux, didn’t I?”

 

“A tux? What—” Buffy stopped, staring at him. “Willow talked to you.”

 

“She said prom was coming up in a week or so.” Spike gave her a gently chiding look. “Why didn’t you tell me it was coming, luv?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, and I know you—I didn’t know if you would want to go. It’s a kid thing, and—”

 

“It’s your thing, Summers,” Spike interrupted. “That’s good enough for me. Like I told Red, it’s not like I’ve never gone to a fancy party before. I think you can trust me.”

 

“That’s not an issue.” Buffy hesitated. “I just didn’t want to assume you’d go, and then with Faith and everything else…”

 

Spike shrugged. “It’ll keep for a night.” He tilted his head and tucked his tongue behind his teeth. “Could be for a whole night.”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “So that’s what this is? You’re going to the prom with me just so you can get into my pants,” she said, feigning anger. “Just like a guy.”

 

“You know it,” he shot back. “Unless you have a problem with that.” Spike leered at her. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

 

“How long would you wait?” Buffy was suddenly completely serious in one of her quick changes of mood.

 

Spike frowned slightly, giving the question the serious consideration he thought it was due. “Dunno,” he said honestly. “Longer than most maybe. I’d like to say I’d wait forever, but—well, I may not be human, but the same principle applies.”

 

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I could wait forever either. I’ve never been patient-girl.” Buffy slipped her hand into his as they started walking again. “Do you ever think about what the Mayor said, Spike? About being immortal?”

 

He pulled her in closer, putting his arm around Buffy’s shoulders. Although Spike appeared to be intent on their conversation—and he was—he was too much of a hunter to completely pull his attention away from their surroundings, ready for any hint of danger.

 

At the moment, though, this thing between them was more important than demon-hunting.

 

“There are times,” he admitted. “You?”

 

“Sometimes.” Buffy couldn’t believe she was actually talking about this, but then again she’d developed the habit of talking to Spike long before they’d started going out. Now that they’d seemed to get most of the wrinkles ironed out of their relationship (for the moment), it was easy to talk to him again. “I have a hard time thinking that I’m going to live long enough to make it a problem.”

 

Spike didn’t bother to hide his wince, although he didn’t tell her not to say things like that, or something similar to shut her down. “You might surprise yourself, pet.”

 

“Maybe,” Buffy admitted. “I guess it doesn’t seem like that big of a concern right now, you know? Most of the time, I can’t see past next week. Thinking about actually growing old makes my brain hurt.”

 

“Then I guess we just don’t think of it for now, yeah?”

 

“Sounds like a plan.” They walked along in silence for a while, enjoying the night and each other’s company. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah, Buffy?”

 

“Have you ever been in love?”

 

“Dunno. Thought so at the time, but looking back I’m not so sure. Not knowing what I do now.”

 

Buffy didn’t bother asking him what he knew now. She had the feeling that she knew exactly what he was talking about.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles opened the door with a warm smile for the woman on the other side. “Joyce.”

 

Their kiss was neither chaste nor brief. “Mmm.” She smiled contentedly. “Hello to you too.”

 

“Does Buffy know where you are tonight?” Giles asked, taking the paper bag full of groceries from her.

 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Joyce replied airily. “But since she’s with Spike, neither of us are inclined to ask too many questions.”

 

“I do admire how you’re handling this.”

 

“What do you mean?” she asked, unsure what exactly Giles was referring to.

 

He started setting the fresh vegetables and meat on the counter, trying to decide how to frame his response. It had been his suggestion to have dinner in, rather than going out. As much as Giles enjoyed the physical aspects of his relationship with Joyce, there were many other things he appreciated about her company. Not least was the opportunity to have a conversation with another adult, not surrounded by adolescents.

 

Well, there was always Wesley, but the other Watcher seemed little more than a child himself at times. Really, the way he devolved to a stuttering lump when Cordelia came around. It was shameful.

 

That was why Giles had been looking forward to this dinner all day. He certainly didn’t want to ruin it right off by sticking his foot in his mouth. “The way you’ve handled all this,” Giles said, struggling to find the right words. “You’ve been the epitome of grace under fire these last months.”

 

Joyce found herself blushing like a schoolgirl. “Rupert…”

 

“I mean it,” he continued, seeing that she was going to brush off his compliment. “With all that you’ve had to deal with, I just wanted you to know how much I admire you.”

 

Joyce shook her head. “There’s nothing to admire, really. I’m just doing the best I can, just like anyone else would be.”

 

“Not like anyone else,” Giles said hoarsely. “Not at all.”

 

Needless to say, dinner didn’t get made until much later.


	38. Chapter 38

**“The fountains mingle with the river/And the rivers with the ocean,/The winds of Heaven mix for ever/With a sweet emotion;/Nothing in the world is single,/All things by a law divine/In one spirit meet and mingle—/Why not I with thine?/See the mountains kiss high Heaven/And the waves clasp one another;/No sister-flower would be forgiven/If it disdained its brother;/And the sunlight clasps the earth,/And the moonbeams kiss the sea—/What are all these kissings worth/If thou kiss not me?” ~Percy Bysshe Shelley, “Love’s Philosophy”**

 

“Mmm, Spike—we have to go.”

 

“I know.” His fingers didn’t slow, and Buffy breathed out a heavy sigh, melting bonelessly under his touch.

 

“We have the meeting.” Buffy knew she didn’t sound convincing. She didn’t want to leave either.

 

His fingers bore down just a little harder. “One more minute,” he cajoled.

 

“Then it’ll be another five,” she responded, echoing exactly what Spike had been saying for the last fifteen minutes. Not that she wanted him to stop. She didn’t. Buffy let out a little gasp as Spike found the last knot behind her shoulder blade and pressed, the pain startling her before it was released, leaving behind a very relaxed Slayer.

 

Buffy sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

 

Spike wiped the massage oil off of his hands with a towel. “Any time, luv.” Buffy had come over to finalize their plans for the evening and had made a comment about her neck being stiff. Before she knew it, Spike had gotten out the massage oil. The telephone call about the emergency meeting had come right in the middle of the Slayer’s massage, but Spike had insisted on finishing before they left saying that she should be relaxed for their big night.

 

“Maybe you’ll let me return the favor tonight,” she suggested, pulling her shirt over her head. When Spike looked pained, turning away to look for something, Buffy put a hand on his arm. “I don’t care about the scars, Spike.”

 

He wouldn’t look at her. It wasn’t that he was self-conscious about his appearance—hardly. It was simply that the way he looked, the scars that marked him, had never mattered to anyone before. Anyone except for him, at least.

 

Buffy traced the scar that ran through his eyebrow. “So where did this one come from?”

 

“Where else?” Spike replied. “It was right before the gypsies caught up with us again.” He was quiet a moment. “He had a knife and I got in the way.”

 

“I think it’s kind of cool.” Buffy pressed her lips to the scar, to his opposite cheek where the faintest of lines could be seen, to his lips. “Is it tonight yet?” she whispered.

 

“No, and if we don’t get moving, Rupert will see to it that we don’t make it ‘til then,” Spike said ruefully, cupping her face with his hand. He wasn’t quite sure what to say, and that was a rarity for him. Spike wanted to tell her what she had done for him—what this place had done. He felt like a new man.

 

Spike had always lived hard and lived for the moment. He liked his work, and he liked living the good life when he could.

 

But what he had forgotten was how it felt to love another person—and he’d never really known what it meant to have someone love you back. Spike hadn’t felt this good since Drusilla had first turned him—before he’d turned his mother and tainted his new life, before Angelus had taken his girl away from him, before all of that.

 

Buffy turned her head to kiss the palm of his hand. “Let’s go before Giles sends out a search party.”

 

~~~~~

 

Xander wasn’t sure quite what to think. There was a part of him that delighted in the fact that Cordelia had finally joined the world of the working class. The other part of him, the part of him he actually liked, could see just how difficult this probably was for her.

 

It would be like Willow losing her smarts, or Buffy losing her strength, or him losing his sense of humor. What do you do when you lose something that makes you, you?

 

“Bloody hell,” Spike murmured as they played the tape through again. “Haven’t seen a hellhound in a long time.”

 

“You’ve seen them before?” Willow asked.

 

Spike nodded absently, watching as the hellhound tore into the boy trying on a tuxedo. “Yeah, guy I knew kept them as guard dogs.”

 

“What happened?” Willow focused on Spike rather than on the TV, not wanting to see the attack again. Buffy was doing the same thing.

 

Spike shrugged. “Killed them and killed him.”

 

“The hellhounds were bred for the Machash Wars,” Giles said. “They’re killing machines, feeding on the brains of their enemies.”

 

“They are particularly vicious,” Wesley agreed. “It’s imperative that we find whoever is controlling this beast and stop it.”

 

“What I don’t understand is why that thing has such good taste,” Cordelia commented. “It chucked Xander and went right for the guy in the tux.”

 

Spike frowned. “She’s right. It was right on top of Harris.”

 

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Cordelia said. “It doesn’t make any sense that something that ugly would know good clothes. Look at the suit. It’s got really clean lines.”

 

Wesley cleared his throat. “If we could stay on topic, please.” He looked at Cordelia. “What were you doing in the shop?”

 

“What?” Cordelia’s eyes went wide. “Um, I—”

 

“What else?” Xander asked, interrupting. Maybe Cordelia had deserved to get knocked down a peg or two, but that didn’t mean that anyone else had to know about it. He knew how badly she wanted to keep her new status a secret. “Burning a hole through daddy’s credit card.”

 

“Pause the tape,” Oz said, leaning forward.

 

Wesley hit the pause button, and Oz pointed at the figure on the screen. He was standing by the store window with a black device. “I think we found our hellraiser.”

 

It took some searching, but Oz finally identified the boy in the tape as Tucker Wells.

 

“Let me guess,” Wesley said dryly. “He was quiet, kept to himself, but always seemed like a nice young man.”

 

“He didn’t seem the murderous type anyway,” Oz replied. “Something must have happened to him.”

 

“Hey! I got into Tucker’s email account,” Willow announced excitedly. “Listen to this email he sent to another kid. ‘Those Sunnydale High lemmings don’t know what awaits them. Their big night will be their last night.’”

 

Giles summarized. “So we have a threat against students on their big night, hellhounds trained to attack people in formalwear…” He trailed off, realizing where that was leading.

 

“Oh, are we catching up now?” Cordelia asked snidely.

 

Oz sighed. “As usual, Sunnydale knows how to put the special in special occasion.”

 

Buffy laughed bitterly. “Why am I even surprised?”

 

“Don’t even think about it,” Spike warned her. When everybody turned to stare at him, Spike nearly snarled. “I did not spend good money to rent a bloody suit and get tickets to have my girl cheated out of her big night by some maladjusted git.”

 

Buffy straightened. “Spike’s right. We’re going to have a prom, and it’s going to be perfect. Wesley, go by Tucker’s house. I doubt he’ll be there, but it won’t hurt to check.”

 

Wesley hesitated, then nodded. “Safety in numbers might be—”

 

“You can take Cordelia,” Buffy said.

 

“Right, that should be fine,” Wesley replied, knowing that he wasn’t going to get much else in the way of concessions from her.

 

“Oz, you said you know this kid that Tucker emailed?” When Oz nodded, she went on. “See if you and Willow can’t track him down.”

 

“What about the magic shop?” Spike asked. “Might as well check to see who’s been buying supplies to raise hellhounds recently.”

 

“I can go,” Xander volunteered, thinking that the dress shop was near by. Maybe he could do something to make up for what he’d done to Cordelia. Just a little.

 

Buffy nodded. “Good.” She glanced over at Spike. “You up for checking out the meat packing plant?”

 

“You thinking what I’m thinking, Pinky?”

 

She laughed. “I think it’s time we see who’s in the market for brains.”

 

~~~~~

 

The guy at the meat packing plant was helpful enough, giving her the address Tucker had his brains delivered to without a lot of questions. As soon as they got the address, Spike called the library. “I’m sorry, Spike, but we’ve found nothing on our end.”

 

“We’ve got an address,” Spike replied. “The Slayer and I will check it out and meet you at the dance. Best not to wait on us.”

 

“Are you sure?” Giles asked. “Perhaps—”

 

“You lot have a good time and keep the dance floor warm for us. We’ll take care of it.” Spike smiled at Buffy. “Between the two of us, we should have this wrapped up in no time.”

 

“Are they going?” Buffy asked as soon as Spike got off the phone.

 

Spike shrugged. “Giles said he’d pass along the message. There’s not much they can do without the information we have, so it makes sense for them to enjoy themselves.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

He lifted an eyebrow. “What for?”

 

“For making this a really good night, hellhounds and all.”

 

He shook his head. “Let’s just get this taken care of. You can thank me when we’re dancing.”

 

~~~~~

 

It was surprisingly easy to deal with Tucker and his dogs. Buffy and Spike arrived just as he released the first hound, and Spike dealt with the beast while the Slayer tackled Tucker. After killing all the demons, Spike dropped Buffy off at her house before driving home to grab a quick shower and change into his tux.

 

By the time he arrived at Buffy’s house, the prom was just starting, which meant that they wouldn’t miss much, even if they were fashionably late.

 

Joyce answered the door when he knocked. “Spike, you look very nice.”

 

“I clean up pretty well,” he replied modestly.

 

Joyce merely raised an eyebrow, although she thought “pretty well” was something of an understatement. If she didn’t miss her guess, Buffy was going to be with the best looking guy there, and she couldn’t help but be happy for her daughter. Joyce was thankful that Buffy was going to get at least one normal high school experience.

 

She met his eyes. “I won’t wait up.”

 

“Probably best,” he agreed. “I’ll take good care of her.”

 

Joyce knew that he wasn’t just referring to that night, and she appreciated the promise. Oddly enough, it seemed that a vampire might be her daughter’s best hope for survival. “I know you will.”

 

Spike’s gaze went right past Joyce to a point beyond her shoulder, and she turned to see Buffy coming down the stairs. The Slayer had put her speed to good use, and she couldn’t have looked better if she’d spent hours on her appearance.

 

Spike stepped to the foot of the stairs, holding out his hand for her like a true gentleman. Buffy took his hand, amazed that the suave man standing in front of her was the same guy as the punk she’d met when he first got to town. Spike looked incredible, his tuxedo perfect, his hair elegantly mussed—and he was hers.

 

“You look amazing,” he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips in an old-fashioned gesture that made her knees go weak.

 

She smiled at him. “You too. Really amazing.”

 

“Shall we?”

 

Buffy paused to kiss her mom goodnight, and then she allowed Spike to escort her to the car. “This is so weird,” she said as they were driving to the school.

 

“That’s not something a guy likes to hear on a date,” Spike said.

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, not you. Going to prom without having to worry about hellhounds or vampires or demons. Just being—”

 

“Buffy? Instead of the Slayer?”

 

As usual, Spike knew what she was feeling almost before she did. “Yeah. That.”

 

“I’ve told you before, luv, this is new for me,” Spike said softly. “I don’t know how to do this because I never got the chance to try.” He paused, glancing over at her as he cut the engine on the Mustang. “But I want to make this work. I’m a long-haul sort of guy.”

 

“I know, and I’m glad for it.”

 

They walked inside the school hand in hand, meeting up with Giles just inside the door. “How did it go?”

 

“Good,” Buffy said. “It’s all taken care of.”

 

“You hungry, Buffy?” Spike asked nodding towards the food table.

 

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “No, that’s okay. The food they have at these things is never great.”

 

“It’s not too bad tonight,” Giles said.

 

“I’ll get you a plate,” Spike said, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Buffy to look after him fondly.

 

Giles didn’t need his glasses to see the glow on her face. “You look lovely tonight, Buffy.”

 

“Thanks,” she replied. “You look pretty dapper yourself.”

 

Giles straightened his collar self-consciously. “Yes, well, chaperones are supposed to blend, the better to spy on the students. At least, that’s what Snyder assures me of.”

 

“You should have asked Mom to come tonight,” Buffy said quietly. “I’ll bet she would have been your date.”

 

He cleared his throat. “I had no desire to make you uncomfortable.”

 

“Well, I’m not saying I’d be jumping up and down for joy, but—” Buffy took a deep breath, well aware that she was about to blow her image as an oblivious teen. “She’s been happier with you around.”

 

“I’m glad,” Giles replied, pausing. “I didn’t want…”

 

“I know. You didn’t. It’s good.”

 

Spike appeared just then, juggling two plates and a glass of punch for Buffy, and doing a much better job of it than most of the other guys attempting the same feat. “Here you are.”

 

“I didn’t realize you were hungry.”

 

Spike just gave her a look. “It’s about blending in, pet. A little trick I’ve picked up over the years.”

 

The impending squabble was cut off by the arrival of Willow and Oz. “Buffy!” Willow beamed at her. “You look amazing!”

 

“Ditto,” she replied. “Hey, Oz.”

 

“How’d things go?” he asked.

 

“Just fine.” Spike took a tentative bite out of some hors d’ouevre he didn’t recognize and then popped the rest into his mouth. “Got there just in time.”

 

“Have we missed anything?” Buffy asked.

 

“The lines for the punch,” Willow replied. “That’s pretty much it. You guys were a lot faster than we thought you’d be.”

 

“We’re speedy,” Buffy agreed. She put down her plate and cup as a slow song came up. “Let’s dance.”

 

Spike wasn’t given a chance to protest as she pulled him out onto the dance floor.

 

“Oz?”

 

He could take a hint. Oz didn’t waste any time leading Willow out onto the dance floor. Giles watched the two couples for a moment before joining Wesley over at the punch table. “How did everything turn out?” Wesley asked.

 

“Quite well, it sounds like.” Giles kept his eyes on his young charges. They had all matured quite a bit over the last year or two.

 

“Spike is quite amazing, isn’t he?” Wesley asked.

 

Giles glanced at him sharply. “Pardon me?”

 

Wesley realized how that might sound. “For a vampire, I meant.” He hesitated and then confessed, “I’ve been doing some reading, you know. I wasn’t allowed—it wasn’t something I had time for at the Academy. I thought he was nothing more than a myth.”

 

“Hmm,” was Giles noncommittal reply. “Spike is much more interesting in the flesh.”

 

“How much of it is true?”

 

“I suppose you will have to ask him.” Giles looked across the room to see Cordelia entering, looking just as lovely as ever. She paused as she passed Xander, saying something to him that Giles couldn’t quite catch. The boy just nodded. It was the most civilized exchange that Giles had seen for months.

 

Wesley had seen Cordelia at the same time, and he immediately started to fidget. He knew it was terribly improper to even be looking in her direction, but he couldn’t help but think that one dance wouldn’t be so bad.

 

Before Wesley could ask the older Watcher what he thought, another student asked Cordelia to dance. In spite of arriving without a date, it looked like her dance card would still be full.

 

Xander wandered up to the two of them shortly thereafter with Anya on his arm. “Giles! Wesley! How’s it going?”

 

Giles couldn’t keep himself from smiling. Xander sounded downright desperate to get a break from his date. Then again, that’s what he got for taking an ex-vengeance demon to the prom. “Just fine.” He smiled at Anya. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked politely.

 

“It isn’t very exciting,” she replied. “And I’ve had better food, but it’s not too bad.”

 

“How’s that for an enthusiastic response?” Xander mumbled. A fast song came up, and he thought that maybe now would be a really good time to cut off the conversation. “Excuse us.”

 

There were only a few more songs before the DJ cut the music and the MC for the evening walked up to the stage. “What’s this then?” Spike asked Buffy in a whisper.

 

“They give out awards to the senior class,” she replied. “I think Xander’s hoping to get Class Clown.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “What? They pick names out of a hat?”

 

Buffy suppressed a smile. “No, the class votes. It’s a thing.”

 

Spike pulled her back against him, and Buffy leaned against his chest, her hands gripping his where they rested on her stomach. It had been an absolutely perfect evening, and it could only get better as far as Buffy was concerned. They would wait for the prizes to be given out, maybe dance another song or two, and then slip quietly away.

 

To do the thing they’d both been looking forward to for a while.

 

She was so lost in her thoughts of anticipation that it took Spike’s hands on her shoulders to pull her out of it. “Buffy, look.”

 

The eyes of the student body seemed to turn to her at just that moment, and she could sense Spike fading back into the shadows. Jonathan was on the stage now, looking uncomfortable in his role as announcer. “We have another award to give out. It’s the first year for this one. I guess there were a lot of write-in votes. Anyway, the committee asked me to read this. ‘We're not good friends. Most of us never found the time to get to know you, but that doesn't mean we haven't noticed you. We don't talk about it much, but it's no secret that Sunnydale High isn't really like other high schools. A lot of weird stuff happens here.’”

 

Buffy turned her head as she heard various students in the crowd call out strange things they had seen, like zombies and hyena people. Whoever called out Snyder’s name got a few laughs. She wasn’t quite sure what they were all getting at, and her stomach was churning as she tried to anticipate what was coming next.

 

Jonathan waited for the crowd to quiet, and then he continued. “But, whenever there was a problem or something creepy happened, you seemed to show up and stop it. Most of the people here have been saved by you, or helped by you at one time or another. We're proud to say that the Class of '99 has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale history.” He paused to allow for applause. “And we know at least part of that is because of you.  So the senior class offers its thanks, and gives you, uh, this.”

 

Someone off-stage handed him a miniature, multi-colored umbrella with a plaque attached to its handle. “It’s from all of us,” Jonathan said. “And it says here, ‘Buffy Summers, Class Protector.’”

 

The Slayer wasn’t sure that it was the best moment of her life, but it was close. To hear the applause from her peers, the cheers—to know that they had noticed her efforts—it felt good. No one wanted to be taken for granted, and Buffy knew now that she hadn’t been.

 

As she walked up to the stage and took her prize, Buffy was aware that this might be the only time that her work as the Slayer was acknowledged, but that was okay. She had this moment, and a little something to remember it by.

 

Not to mention the fact that she’d gotten her perfect prom.

 

Buffy looked out into the crowd, and her eyes found Spike. She had no doubt that her night was about to get even better.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy and Spike didn’t stick around for long after that. They danced a little longer, snickered over Wesley’s stuttered request for a dance with Cordelia, and then they said their goodnights.

 

The drive back to Spike’s place was short, and made in silence. Buffy could feel the quick flutter of anticipation in her belly. She was nervous, not knowing what it would be like _this_ time. Would it be different? Better? What if she didn’t do it right? What if Spike was disappointed?

 

As though sensing her rising anxiety, Spike reached over and laced his fingers through hers. He could feel her racing pulse, and he squeezed her hand. “We don’t have to do this.”

 

“I want to,” she replied, sounding more certain than she felt.

 

Spike gave her a long look. “You know I wouldn’t hurt you, right? You trust me?”

 

She didn’t even have to think about it. “With my life.”

 

“Then we’re good.” Still playing the role of gentleman, Spike went around the car to open her door for her. They maintained contact as they entered the house. Spike locked the door, and Buffy trailed behind him to his bedroom.

 

When that door was closed, Spike turned to her, and his eyes were so hungry for her, that Buffy felt all her fears melt away. He wanted her; she wanted him.

 

Maybe this time it really would be that easy.

 

They didn’t speak. Words seemed somehow superfluous to the moment. There would be time enough to discuss the dance, and her prize, and what they felt for each other.

 

Instead, there were only the hurried movements of their fingers on buttons and zippers, the slow exploration of the other’s body, the soft whispers of skin on skin. There was nothing but each other and the moment, and that was enough.


	39. Chapter 39

**“…Oh, love is a journey with water and stars,/with drowning air and storms of flour;/love is a clash of lightnings,/two bodies subdued by one honey./Kiss by kiss I travel your little infinity,/your borders, your rivers, your tiny villages;/and a genital fire—transformed, delicious—/slips through the narrow roadways of the blood/till it pours itself, quick, like a night carnation, till it is:/and is nothing, in shadow, and a flimmer of light.” ~Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet XII”**

 

Buffy woke suddenly the next morning, the spot on the bed next to her empty. She sat up, her eyes searching the room, clutching the sheet to her chest. There was no sign of Spike, and she couldn’t help but remember the last time she’d slept with a vampire and awoken alone.

 

It would be just her luck to have put Spike’s soul in jeopardy right on the eve of the next Apocalypse.

 

“Hey, luv,” Spike said as he nudged the door open with his foot. “Coffee?”

 

She stared at him. “Where were you?”

 

“Making coffee and seeing what I had for breakfast for you,” he replied, wondering why Buffy looked like she’d seen a ghost. “Something wrong?”

 

“No,” she replied, trying to ignore her momentary panic. Spike was obviously still himself. “I’m good.”

 

He sat down on the bed next to her, handing her the mug of coffee. “No, you’re not.” Spike brushed her hair out of her face. “You’re okay, right? I didn’t hurt you last night, did I?”

 

“No, not at all,” she was quick to assure him. “Last night was—was it good?”

 

Spike pulled back a little, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know, luv. You tell me. I’m pretty sure you were there too.” At the hurt that flashed across her face, he sighed. “Sorry, Buffy, but you’re trampling my fragile ego here. If you’re asking if it was good for me, then, yeah. Last night rates right up there as one of the best nights of my life.”

 

Buffy flushed. “I—I’m sorry, Spike. I just—”

 

Spike suddenly put together the pieces of the puzzle. “Oh, bloody hell, pet. That’s—” He cursed fluently. “You woke up to Angelus.”

 

“Something like that,” Buffy said. “When you weren’t here, I just thought…”

 

He kissed her, slow and deep. “Still me,” he murmured when he pulled back to let her catch her breath. “I know the kind of mind games that bastard played, Buffy, and whatever he said wasn’t true. Take it from the guy in love with you. Last night was bloody marvelous.”

 

They hadn’t said the words yet. Sure, Buffy had her suspicions, but Spike hadn’t told her that he loved her, even during their lovemaking. “You’re in love with me?”

 

Spike gave her a sheepish grin. “Yeah. Not exactly how I planned on telling you, but—”

 

She cut him off with a kiss of her own. “I love you, too.” The words were easier to say than she thought they’d be, falling off her lips with a naturalness she found surprising.

 

They stared at each other, neither one knowing what was supposed to come next. Their nervous laughter started at about the same time. “That wasn’t so hard,” Spike observed.

 

“No, it wasn’t.” Buffy glanced away shyly. “I didn’t think I’d be able to say that again.”

 

“I didn’t either.” Spike stroked her cheek. “Wish this thing with the Mayor wasn’t hanging over us,” he said wistfully. “I’d whisk you off someplace for a bit, just the two of us.”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “You’d have to talk to my mom about that.”

 

Spike winced. “Yeah. I keep forgetting about that. Speaking of—” He glanced at the clock. “She going to be completely brassed off about you not coming home last night?”

 

“Mom knew I was going to be out all night,” Buffy replied. “I didn’t tell her I was coming back here, but I imagine she could figure it out. I didn’t want to lie, but—”

 

“Maybe not the best idea to tell the whole truth in this case, yeah?”

 

“Probably not.” There was another self-conscious pause. “Thanks for going with me last night.”

 

Spike smiled at her. “Any time you need an escort, you know who to call.”

 

“You’re the best.”

 

“Don’t you forget it.”

 

~~~~~

 

Faith didn’t ask questions these days. In fact, she didn’t even _think_ the questions. It wasn’t that she didn’t know that what she was doing was wrong. She did. Killing a harmless old man in cold blood pretty much topped the list of “wrong things to do.” The Mayor had said the guy needed killing, though, and so Faith took her knife and got to it.

 

She had started down this road, after all, and now she was stuck on it. Everyone had always said that she would come to a bad end, including her mother.

 

Faith wasn’t going to come to a bad end, though. She was going to be the Mayor’s right hand man. There was nothing bad about that. Maybe she’d be evil, but she’d be better off than Buffy and all her little friends.

 

Besides, maybe it wasn’t so bad being evil, not when she had _him_. Not when he treated her better than anyone she’d ever known before.

 

Not when she finally had a family.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike came through the sewers, yawning. He hadn’t been sleeping for long before Buffy called to inform him that they had a situation and new information on the Mayor. Would he come? He snorted to himself. Spike wished he’d been able to kill Angelus by more unpleasant means than a quick staking.

 

It was obvious that some of Buffy’s more glaring vulnerabilities came from that bastard.

 

He hauled himself up through the manhole easily. Well, it didn’t really matter. It was his job to get Buffy—and the rest of them—through this apocalypse, and then he could take his time making sure Buffy understood just how wonderful she was.

 

Spike already had several sonnets floating through his head, much to his chagrin. Not that they were ever going to see the light of day, of course.

 

He walked into the library to find Anya the center of attention. “You’ve never seen a demon.”

 

Buffy raised her hand. “Excuse me? I kill them professionally.” She held out a hand in silent welcome for Spike. He came over to her side and put an arm around her waist.

 

“All the demons that walk the earth are tainted, human-hybrids.” She shook her head. Spike could smell the fear radiating off of the girl. Whatever she’d seen, it had frightened her badly. “The Ascension means that someone becomes pure demon. They’re different.”

 

“Different how?” Giles asked.

 

Anya shook her head, trying to clear her mind of the memories. Xander’s mention of the Ascension had her running scared. He had made her come and talk to these people, and all she wanted to do was run. It wasn’t like she could teleport out anymore, so she needed to arrange transportation. She needed to leave before this demon rose, because there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop it.

 

“They’re bigger for one thing,” she finally replied.

 

“Bigger how?” Buffy asked.

 

Anya glared at her. “Much bigger! Bigger than you can ever hope to face! Are you even listening to me? If you stay, you will die, which is why I’m planning on getting out of town.”

 

“Stay for just a little while,” Giles coaxed. “The more we know, the better chance we have.”

 

“You don’t have a chance,” Anya said sullenly, but she nodded anyway. “I’ll stay for a while, and then I’m going to start packing.”

 

Buffy pulled Spike off to the side once Giles started interrogating her on the rituals they knew the Mayor had been doing to prepare. “We’ve got a job tonight.”

 

“What’s that?” he asked, taking the newspaper from her when she handed it to him, frowning at the headline. For a second, Spike couldn’t see the relevance that a murdered professor would have to their current problem, but then he saw that the man had been stabbed to death. “You’re thinking Faith?”

 

Buffy nodded, glad that they were on the same page. “I don’t know why the Mayor wanted him dead, but I think we should find out.”

 

“I think you’re probably right,” he replied.

 

“Why is evil girl here?”

 

Both of them turned to see Willow and Oz entering the library. “Red really doesn’t like the girl, does she?”

 

“Xander issues,” Buffy said wisely. “Plus, Anya was partially responsible for bringing Willow’s doppelganger.”

 

Spike nodded, then dipped his head down for a quick kiss. “Missed waking up next to you today.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “You say the sweetest things.”

 

“As long as I don’t start spouting poetry,” Spike muttered.

 

“Poetry is nice,” Buffy replied. She might have risked another stolen kiss, but she saw the library doors swing open behind Spike and the Mayor enter.

 

Buffy wasn’t quite sure how Spike moved so quickly, but he was immediately beside the table, putting himself within easy reach of the Mayor and her friends. The Slayer quickly followed after stuffing the newspaper behind a couple of books.

 

The Mayor was alone, and he paused to admire the stacks of books. “Well, so this is the inner sanctum. Faith told me this is where you concoct your little schemes.” He chuckled, and the sound held more menace than laughter should have. “It’s so nice to see kids interested in books in this modern age. So what are you reading?” Mayor Wilkins reached for the nearest book on the counter, inches away from Giles.

 

The Watcher stood his ground, his eyes flickering to the sword that lay on the counter. “‘The beast will walk upon the earth and darkness will follow. The several races of man will be as one in their terror and destruction.’ Aw, that’s kind of sweet. All that coming together.”

 

“You never get even a little tired of hearing yourself speak, do you?” Buffy asked.

 

The Mayor laughed. “That’s one spunky girl you’ve raised. I’m gonna eat her.”

 

Giles grabbed the sword laying on the counter and thrust it through the Mayor’s chest in one smooth motion. The Mayor staggered back, but quickly regained his balance, pulling the sword out and wiping off the blade with a handkerchief. “Now, now, Mr. Giles,” Mayor Wilkins scolded. “Violent outbursts in front of the children? They look to you to see how to behave.”

 

“Get out,” Buffy ordered.

 

The Mayor gave her a long, hard look. “I smell fear. That’s smart. If it makes you feel any better, some of your deaths will be quick. Don’t miss my commencement address.” He tossed the sword on the counter and turned to leave. “It’s going to be one heck of a speech.”

 

Buffy could feel Spike’s hands on her shoulders, providing an anchor. “Cocky bastard, isn’t he?” Spike murmured in her ear.

 

The Slayer smiled a little at that. She took a deep breath. “Giles, I think we need to get started on this now.”

 

“I agree, Buffy,” he replied. “But there isn’t much we can do at the moment. We don’t even know what kind of demon the Mayor is going to become, much less know if he can be killed. If his invulnerability transfers…” He trailed off, and they all took a moment to think about how scary that would be. If the Ascension couldn’t be stopped, and the Mayor couldn’t be killed, fighting him seemed pretty pointless.

 

“I want to get my mom out of town,” Buffy stated.

 

Giles nodded. “I think that may be wise. Would you like me to speak with her?”

 

She shook her head. “No, I think I should be the one to let her know what’s going on.”

 

“What do you want us to do, Buffy?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy gave her friend a grateful look but shook her head. “Nothing, Will. There’s really not much you can do, but if you could stay available, that would be good. Maybe this professor’s death will give us something.”

 

“Anything would be nice,” Giles muttered.

 

“Then you mean to investigate at the scene of the crime?” Wesley asked. “I don’t think it’s wise to go by yourself.”

 

“Which is why I’ll be going with her,” Spike said. “We’ve got it covered, Watcher.”

 

Buffy looked at Spike. “Do you mind sticking around while I get Mom on her way?”

 

“Go, luv. I’ll be here.” They shared a look, and then Buffy hurried out of the library, the others following close behind.

 

Spike looked at the two Watchers. “Well, we got any plans for how to spend our time?”

 

Giles picked up the sword the Mayor had tossed down. “How are you with a blade?”

 

“Fair,” Spike replied, raising an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

 

“I want to work off some energy, and Wesley is hardly up to my standards.” Giles ignored Wesley’s very vocal protest. “Would you mind sparring?”

 

“Hardly.” Spike’s eyes glittered in anticipation. He had some energy of his own to work off. The eve before a battle always put him on edge. Spike stripped off his jacket and threw it at Wesley, then neatly caught the sword Giles tossed to him. “Watch and learn, Wesley.”

 

Giles grinned, knowing that he could let Ripper out—for a little while anyway. “En garde!”

 

~~~~~

 

“I’m not leaving,” Joyce repeated. “You and Rupert are staying.”

 

“Mom, I can’t be distracted worrying about you,” Buffy replied. “I need to know that you’re safe.”

 

Joyce sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. “And that’s not something I get.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Buffy sat next to her. “I know I’m not the daughter you wanted. I wish—”

 

“Buffy.” Joyce cut her off. “You’re everything I could have wished for, even if this wasn’t what I’d planned.” She took a deep breath. “I know I’m going to regret asking this but—how was your evening with Spike?”

 

Buffy knew exactly what her mom was referring to. She had actually arrived home shortly before her mom, who had apparently spent the night at Giles’ apartment. They had eaten breakfast together, and Buffy told her all about the prom, but neither of them mentioned not spending the night at home.

 

Buffy had wondered if her mom would say anything, or if she’d just do the selective memory thing that she was usually so good at. It appeared that they were going to talk about it. “It was really good,” she admitted. “He’s—he’s good to me, Mom.”

 

“I know he is, sweetie,” Joyce said, sighing over her little girl’s growing up. Buffy wasn’t a child anymore; she hadn’t been a child for a very long time now. “Do you love him?”

 

“Yeah, and it’s mutual.” Buffy grimaced. “What about you and Giles? Do you—”

 

“I care for him a great deal.”

 

Buffy leaned her head against her mom’s shoulder. “I’ll keep him safe, and Spike will keep me safe.”

 

“You’ll call as soon as you can?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Joyce pressed her lips to Buffy’s forehead. “Be careful.”

 

“Careful as I can be.”

 

~~~~~

 

“So what are we looking for?” Spike asked, looking around the small apartment.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I have no idea. The Mayor apparently sent Faith to kill him, so there was something here he didn’t want us to know. What that might be…”

 

“Box it up?” Spike asked.

 

“Box it up.”

 

They started collecting what papers and files they could find from the mess Faith and the police had left behind. It was mostly research in language Buffy found indecipherable, even if it was in English. “Volcanoes,” Spike muttered, pausing to look at the top sheet of a sheaf of papers. “Odd thing for the Mayor to be worried about unless there’s one about to erupt here in Sunnydale.”

 

“Beats me. Who knows what’s going on in his head?” Buffy asked rhetorically. “For all we know, he’s crazy.”

 

“Well, yeah,” Spike replied. “So how’d your Mum take getting sent away?”

 

“About as well as you’d expect.” Buffy straightened, stuffing one last folder in the box. “She asked me about prom night.”

 

“Am I going to get staked the next time I see her?”

 

“No,” Buffy replied, smiling. “We didn’t actually talk about it, you know. It was more like we—talked around it. She’s in love with Giles.”

 

“That’s been going on for a while,” Spike said gently.

 

Buffy made a rueful face. “And I was too blind to see it.”

 

“They were discreet,” Spike corrected her. “Besides, if it was my mum, I’d have turned a blind eye too.”

 

Buffy let him take the box from her hands, and then she fell into step beside him as they made their way back to his car. Spike had been forced to park a couple of blocks away for lack of available spots. “You know what really sucks?” she asked.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Everything should be good right now,” she complained. “I’ve got a hottie for a boyfriend—” Buffy completely ignored Spike’s good-natured leer in response to that comment. “—I’m going to graduate from high school, Mom and I are really getting along right now. I should be looking forward to a summer of hanging out with my friends, but the Mayor has to go and ruin it with a big apocalypse. It’s not fair.”

 

Spike considered that for a moment. “Good chance this is the one I was supposed to be here for. If it wasn’t for the Ascension, I might never have come.”

 

“Good point,” Buffy pouted. “Darn it. Now I have to be thankful for an apocalypse. How messed up is that?”

 

“Probably not as messed up as a vampire falling for a Slayer,” Spike replied dryly.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes, about to argue over who had fallen for who first, when she saw the arrowhead protrude through Spike’s chest. She caught him easily, letting the box fall, looking around for their attacker, but she couldn’t see anyone. “Spike?”

 

“I’m okay,” he said through gritted teeth. “Bloody hell! I’ve been shot more times in the last year in this sodding town than in my entire history.”

 

“That’s Sunnydale for you,” Buffy said, breathing a sigh of relief. If Spike wasn’t dust, he would be fine. “Looks like I’m going to be driving your car after all.”

 

Spike glared at her, but he didn’t try to argue. He was in no shape to be driving and he knew it. “Put one scratch on my car, and you’re dead meat.”

 

Buffy shook her head, tucking the box of papers under one arm and wrapping the other around Spike’s waist. “You do love your car more than me.”

 

~~~~~

 

Willow hadn’t been sure what a person’s first time was supposed to be like. It wasn’t as if she could ask Buffy what it had been like with Angel, not with how things had turned out. She’d gotten a few details about her night with Spike, but that wasn’t really Buffy’s first time, so Willow wasn’t sure if she could anticipate anything based on Buffy’s euphoric look when she’d asked the Slayer if it was good.

 

It _was_ good, though. It was different than she’d expected, and now she felt different—as she’d tried so eloquently to explain to Oz.

 

But it was good. Making love with Oz made her feel connected to him in a way she’d never been connected to anyone else.

 

Even now his hands were gentle, and Willow could feel the steady thudding of his heart under her cheek as she lay against him. The moment couldn’t have gotten any better.

 

Which was, of course, why they were interrupted by the ringing of a phone.

 

After she’d hung up, Willow started searching for her clothes. “Shirt, shirt, shirt,” she muttered, shifting the bedclothes out of the way.

 

“What’s happened?” Oz asked. He had already gotten his pants on and wordlessly handed Willow her shirt.

 

“Thanks,” she said absent-mindedly. “It’s Spike. Someone—probably Faith—shot him with a poisoned arrow. Buffy needs us.”

 

Oz sat back down on the bed to pull his shoes on. “I didn’t think poison worked on vampires.”

 

“It doesn’t normally.” Willow had managed to recover the last of her clothing and she straightened it out, finger-combing her hair. She really hoped that their activities weren’t going to be obvious to the rest of the gang.

 

She probably should have been looking up spells. If she’d stayed at the library, she could have been researching this poison already. Guilt started creeping in. If they hadn’t—

 

“Stop it,” Oz said gently. When Willow looked startled, he smoothed out a strand of her bright red hair. “There was nothing we could have done.”

 

They rested their foreheads together for a brief moment, gathering themselves together. This had been but a brief respite. It had been necessary, and it had been good, but it was only a respite.

 

It was time to do battle again.


	40. Chapter 40

**“My love, if I die and you don’t—,/My love, if you die and I don’t—,/let’s not give grief an even greater field. No expanse is greater than where we live./Dust in the wheat, and in the deserts,/time, wandering water, the vague wind/swept us on like sailing seeds./We might not have found one another in time./This meadow where we find ourselves,/O little infinity! we give it back./But Love, this love has not ended:/just as it never had a birth, it has/no death: it is like a long river,/only changing lands, and changing lips.” ~Pablo Neruda, “Sonnet XCII”**

 

By the time Willow and Oz arrived at the high school, they had already moved Spike back to his place, leaving Wesley to deliver the message and the broken arrow. “I would like to be of assistance, but Buffy asked me to call the Council,” he said apologetically.

 

Willow smiled at him. “It’s okay. I’ve got Oz and Xander.”

 

“What are we going to do?” Xander asked, rising from the table.

 

“Find out what poisoned Spike, and maybe come up with an antidote,” Willow suggested tentatively. “I’m going to try anyway, but I’ve never done that before.”

 

“You can,” Oz said confidently. “If anyone can.”

 

Their eyes met, and even Xander could tell that something had changed. He was fairly sure he didn’t know what it was—nor did he want to know. “Willow’s the one to do it,” he agreed.

 

Xander felt like a third wheel as he watched Willow and Oz work in tandem to set up their impromptu science experiment. Willow scribbled a list down on a piece of paper. “The magic shop should have all of this. I want to see if it’s a mystical poison.”

 

Xander looked apologetic. “I’m a little short of cash right now.”

 

“Just tell them it’s for me,” she replied.

 

He left the chem lab, immediately running into Anya. “I thought you were leaving town.”

 

“I am,” she replied. “The car’s all packed and waiting.”  


He raised an eyebrow. “Then what are you still doing here?”

 

“I came back for you!” Anya replied, sounding angry and impatient, although Xander wondered whether she was angrier with him or with herself. “We can leave tonight.”

 

“You want me to go with you?” Xander asked, no little disbelief in his tone. He’d thought prom an unmitigated disaster, and now Anya wanted him to leave town with her?

 

She glared at him. “If you stay, you’ll die, and I don’t want that. Whenever I think of you being dead it makes me want to vomit.”

 

There was a piece of him that was rather touched by that, but it was a very small piece. “So I give you barfy feelings? That makes me want to go with you.”

 

“Come with me,” Anya insisted.

 

Xander shook his head. “I can’t.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I’ve got friends on the line.” He held up Willow’s shopping list. “They’re counting on me.”

 

“You’re just going to get in the way!” Anya accused. “They’d probably be better off without you here anyway.”

 

“Way to touch a guy’s heart,” Xander said, brushing past her and heading down the hall.

 

Anya stared after him, furious at the both of them. At herself for feeling the way she did and at Xander for being so stupidly noble. “Fine! I hope you die!”

 

Xander just waved a hand, not even looking behind him. He knew without being told that every second counted. And no matter what Anya might think, he was integral.

 

He was certain of it.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike’s eyes fluttered open as Buffy applied the damp cloth to his forehead. “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” she replied, giving him a watery smile. “How are you doing?”

 

“Apparently hanging in there.” He shut his eyes tightly as another wave of pain crashed over him. “Any news yet?”

 

Buffy tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “No, but Willow’s working on doing some trace-thingie, and Wesley’s calling the Council. We should have you back on your feet in no time.”

 

Spike hissed and then shook his head. “Hope so. I’m still supposed to make sure you stop that apocalypse.”

 

“You’re going to be fine,” she insisted, brushing back his sweat-soaked hair.

 

“Buffy?”

 

She turned to see Wesley standing in the doorway, looking unhappy. “What is it, Wes?”

 

“I think we need to talk.”

 

The Slayer squeezed Spike’s hand. “Are you going to be okay?”

 

“Be fine,” he managed. “Go.”

 

She followed Wesley out to the living room where Giles was sitting on the couch. “Okay, what’s going on?”

 

Wesley swallowed, unwilling to meet her eyes. “The Council won’t help.”

 

“What?” Buffy asked. “Did you explain what was going on? That we need Spike?”

 

“I explained, but—they said he’s a vampire, and it’s not the Council’s policy to save vampires.” Wesley winced. “I’m very sorry, Buffy. I tried to tell them…”

 

Buffy believed him. Wesley didn’t appear to be any happier with the situation than she was. “What did they say?”

 

He cleared his throat. “They said you should concentrate on the Mayor’s Ascension and forget about Spike. I—I told them that you wouldn’t, and—” Wesley paused. “They didn’t take that very well.”

 

“So they won’t help us?”

 

“No, but I am at your disposal.” Wesley gave a bitter little chuckle that Buffy didn’t quite understand. “I could tell you what their orders were, but I didn’t think you’d listen to them anyway.”

 

“You’re learning,” Buffy said dryly. “Damn them!” she burst out. “How dare they when they know what kind of help Spike is to us?”

 

“There are rules,” Wesley tried to explain. “They’ve been around for longer than—”

 

“I don’t care if they’ve been around for longer than dirt,” Buffy spat. “Fine. You know what? I don’t need their rules. If you’re not with me, you’re against me, and they’ve picked their side. I’m done with the Council.” She gave Wesley a hard look. “I hope you don’t plan on standing in my way.”

 

Wesley shook his head. “I meant what I said, Buffy.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “Then call the Council and tell them where they can shove their orders. I will save Spike, and I will stop the Ascension, and I will do it without their help.” She turned to Giles. “I can’t stay here. Will you look after him?”

 

“I’ll call you if there’s any change,” Giles replied. When Buffy had left, he turned to Wesley. “What exactly happened?”

 

Wesley sighed. “Mr. Travers took exception to my argument in favor of helping Spike. When I told him that Buffy wouldn’t follow the Council’s orders, and expressed my reservations about attempting to force her to…”

 

“They fired you?” Giles guessed.

 

“Something like that.” Wesley gave him a tight smile. “I’ve been relieved of my duties pending an investigation.”

 

“Why?” Giles asked bluntly.

 

Wesley shrugged, knowing what Giles meant without asking. “I told you I’d been doing some reading on Spike, and I’ve watched him here. To simply let him die would be as great a crime as allowing a human to die.” Wesley shook his head. “Besides, I was well aware that she wasn’t going to listen to me. It’s not like she ever has in the past.”

 

Giles raised an eyebrow. “It seems you are learning.”

 

Wesley sat down on the couch. “Let’s just hope that we all have time to put that to good use.”

 

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Giles warned him. “I need you to go back to the library and look over the information from Professor Wirth’s files again. Cross reference it with known demons and then see if you can identify what type of demon the Mayor is most likely to become. Once we know that—”

 

“We’ll know how to kill him,” Wesley said, sighing as he stood. It was probably better not to remain seated on Spike’s rather comfortable couch. There was no way he’d manage to stay awake if he did.

 

“Wesley,” Giles called after him as he went to the front door. “If it helps, I believe you made the right choice.”

 

Wesley looked down at the tops of his shoes for a moment then back up at Giles. “Thank you. I believe that it does.”

 

~~~~~

 

They had all been surprised by her decision. Buffy was the Slayer. She was supposed to be the good guy, and she was talking about killing a human being. In fact, once Willow told her that only Slayer’s blood would save Spike, Buffy hadn’t even hesitated.

 

Faith had killed at least two people, had shot Spike, and there was no way the cops were going to be able to handle her even if they ever managed to catch her. She was Buffy’s responsibility, and Buffy was going to end it. Tonight. She would drop Faith’s dead body into Spike’s lap.

 

Buffy would just have to deal with the nightmares later.

 

The gang had done their jobs. The address was the right one. “Thought I’d drop by,” Buffy said when Faith answered the door.

 

“How’s your boy?” Faith asked with a smile, backing away into the middle of the room.

 

Buffy shrugged, as though the very idea of Spike not being around anymore wasn’t terrifying. “He’ll be just fine once I deliver the cure.”

 

Faith tilted her head. “Cure, huh? The Mayor said there wasn’t one. So what is it?”

 

“Interestingly enough, it’s your blood,” Buffy responded.

 

Faith laughed. “You’re not getting that.”

 

Buffy didn’t bother with a warning. The right hook connected solidly with Faith’s jaw. “Oh, I think I will.”

 

Faith’s eyes glittered. “Welcome to the dark side, sister.” Faith met Buffy’s attack with relish.

 

They battled furiously. It wasn’t often that Buffy faced someone who was just as quick, just as skilled, and who loved the fight as much as she did.

 

Well, not unless you counted her boyfriend.

 

Although they had both had the benefit of training with Spike, Buffy’s sessions had been a little more regular, and over a longer period of time. For every blow Faith managed to get through her defenses, Buffy managed two. They danced around the room, exchanging punches and kicks in rapid succession.

 

Faith managed to knee Buffy in the side, catching her off guard, finishing it up with a backhanded punch to her head that sent Buffy flying through the large window. Buffy recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. Faith seized her advantage and started coming at Buffy with a dizzying attack that allowed Buffy no time to catch her bearings.

 

Buffy managed to get a breather by head-butting Faith in the face, causing the other girl to stumble back, and she pulled the dagger she’d grabbed from the book cage. Faith gave her a feral grin when she saw the weapon, pulling her own knife from the sheath strapped to her back. “Looks like you’re not the only one packing tonight, B,” Faith said. “I thought I might be seeing you.”

 

Buffy didn’t waste words. She launched herself at the other girl, both blades flashing silver in the moonlight. With a clever twist of the knife, Faith managed to disarm Buffy and pin her against the railguard around the roof. “Been fun, B,” Faith said. “Looks like you’ll be joining your boyfriend tonight after all.”

 

Spike had taught Buffy a move she didn’t think Faith knew about. He’d told her the name of it, as well as the particular branch of martial arts it came from. She couldn’t pronounce it if her life depended on it—but it didn’t.

 

All Buffy had to do was to reproduce it.

 

“Guess again,” she gasped, twisting her body, taking Faith’s knife-hand with her, and burying the knife hilt-deep into the other girl’s abdomen.

 

Buffy stepped back, standing with the knife in her hand, stunned, unable to believe what she had just done. There was blood on her hands now, too. “You did it,” Faith said, then she pushed Buffy away from her, hard enough to send her back several feet. “You killed me. But it’s not going to do you a hell of a lot of good.”

 

Buffy could do nothing except to watch helplessly as Faith plunged off the roof onto the bed of a truck.

 

Spike’s last chance was gone.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow wiped Spike’s damp forehead with a cool cloth. They had called Giles to let him know what Buffy was planning, and he had asked them to relieve him at Spike’s bedside. Willow had gotten the feeling that Giles wasn’t terribly happy about Buffy going after Faith, but he also wasn’t going to try to stand in her way.

 

She just couldn’t believe that Wesley had stood up to the Council for Spike. It looked like he wasn’t quite as much of a dork as they’d thought.

 

Not that he wasn’t still a dork, of course.

 

“Red?” Spike was squinting at her as though he couldn’t make her out very clearly.

 

She smiled at him. “That’s me. Hanging in there?”

 

“Where—where’s Buffy?”

 

“Oh, you know Buffy. She can’t sit still. She went to get your cure,” Willow said brightly. She sucked at lying, but she was hoping that Spike’s weakened condition would mask her over-bright voice.

 

He hissed in pain, arching off the bed. “You’ll—you’ll tell her something for me?”

 

“I’m not telling her anything!” Willow said. “You’re going to tell her yourself because you’re going to be fine.” She pointed to her face. “You see my resolve face, mister? No one can resist the resolve face.”

 

Spike chucked weakly. “Gonna miss you, Red,” he mumbled. “You and your boy. Good people. Look after Buffy for me, will you?”

 

“Now that’s just crazy talk,” Buffy said from the doorway. “You’re going to take care of me. You promised, remember?”

 

Willow turned in her chair, and her face fell when she saw Buffy give a quick shake of her head. “Hey, Buffy. How’s it going?”

 

“You’re hurt,” Spike said. “I can smell the blood.”

 

“It’s not mine,” she replied. “I’m fine, Spike. Willow? I think I can take it from here. Could you tell Giles that if he needs me I’ll be here?”

 

“Sure thing, Buffy,” Willow replied, giving Buffy’s shoulder a squeeze on her way out the door. She wanted to ask what happened with Faith, but now wasn’t the time. Not with Spike dying right before their eyes. Instead, she grabbed her boyfriend and left, feeling horribly guilty for the relief she felt that it wasn’t Oz in that bed.

 

Buffy sat down on the edge of Spike’s bed and stroked his face. “Hey there.”

 

“Hey.” Spike’s voice hitched in pain. “Sorry, luv. Never meant for it to end like this.”

 

“Willow and Oz found a cure, Spike,” Buffy said. “You’re going to be fine.”

 

Spike frowned. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Slayer’s blood. It’s good for what ails you.”

 

Spike shook his head. “Buffy, no.”

 

“It was supposed to be Faith, but I couldn’t—I didn’t manage to bring her back.” She smiled at him. “So it’s got to be me.”

 

“Won’t hurt you,” Spike whispered hoarsely. “You don’t know what you’re asking, pet. I can’t—not to save my own sorry hide.”

 

“There’s nothing sorry about your hide,” Buffy replied, a lump in her throat. “Do you know what it would do to me to lose you? I can’t, not like this. Not when I could prevent it. All you have to do is drink. You’ll know when to stop.”

 

Spike shook his head, his fevered mind playing through what would happen if he let Buffy have her way. He’d been here before; he had done this before. Angelus had offered him the option—to save his own life or to kill someone else, and he’d chosen selfishly every single time.

 

Not that there had been much of a choice. Every bleeding boy or girl would have ended up dead, and at least they’d gone quickly by his hand. Angelus always had liked playing with his food.

 

But if Spike took Buffy’s offer he would—

 

“You won’t,” Buffy said. “You won’t, Spike. I trust you to stop.”

 

Spike shook his head again, but his resistance was fading. He didn’t want to leave his girl. Not now, not as they were just beginning.

 

“Please,” she whispered. “Spike, please. You can’t leave me. If I can save you—I have to do it. Please, you have to let me.”

 

When had he ever been able to say no to his girl?

 

Buffy saw the resignation in his eyes before he gave verbal assent, and she helped him to sit, cradling his limp form and holding his head to her neck. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“You won’t,” she promised. “It’s okay, sweetie. I want this.”

 

Buffy could feel his lips against her neck, kissing her gently. She tilted her head to make sure Spike had clear access, and she could feel the bones in his face shift against her skin and the sharp prick of his teeth.

 

When he bit down, it was a rush. The endorphins hit her system, making her feel weak and invincible all at the same time. At the same time, a bolt of heat went right to her core. She never wanted it to end, and Buffy suddenly understood why most victims of vampire attacks didn’t struggle.

 

Why would she want to end this?

 

Spike had never really stopped feeding from humans completely. Not only had he been known to catch a bite while he was on the job, but he had regularly supplemented his diet with just-expired blood from the hospital. Still, Slayer’s blood was a rush to his weakened system that threatened to go straight to his head.

 

The last few hours had been one wave of pain and weakness after another, each one leaving him panting, wondering when it was going to end. The influx of Buffy’s blood was a high that made it almost impossible for him to stop when he reached the point he knew he should.

 

There was a part of him that wanted to keep drinking, that wanted to suck the life right out of her.

 

It was that desire that gave him the strength to stop when he felt her start to struggle just a bit. Spike withdrew as gently as he could, trying not to do any more damage than he had already. He kissed her wounds, waiting until they had stopped bleeding before he laid her back on the bed.

 

“Did you get enough?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike nodded. “Think so. Gotta find something to cover that up, luv.” He levered himself out of the bed, dismayed at how weak he still felt. His limbs were trembling, and Spike wondered how long it was going to take the poison to work out of his system. There hadn’t been a choice, however. Had he taken more blood, Buffy would have needed a trip to the hospital for a transfusion. This way, they both had at least a chance of being at full strength tomorrow.

 

He found the medical supplies he’d stocked up on when he realized that even a vampire might need patching up in Sunnydale. That, and he was anticipating a night when Buffy might have to come back to his place for assistance.

 

Spike came back, sitting down on the edge of the bed to clean the bite and tape a gauze pad over the top of it. His hands were still shaking, partly because of the poison, but also because Spike had never wanted this.

 

Well, perhaps he’d had a few dreams, but he had never wanted to see Buffy in his bed, looking so pale. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Tired,” she replied. “But not that bad. I’ve definitely felt worse.” Buffy saw his trembling and grabbed his wrist. “You didn’t take enough.”  


“Yeah, I did,” he retorted. “The pain is gone. If I’d taken more, you’d be in the hospital.”

 

Buffy glared at him. “You’re still shaky.”

 

“More out of the thought of losing you than anything else,” Spike assured her, dropping the rest of the first aid supplies on the floor and crawling into the bed next to her.

 

Buffy grabbed one of his hands and draped his arm across her middle. “You’re not going to lose me. You stopped.”

 

“Might not have.”

 

“You did. I wasn’t going to lose you.”

 

“So you said.”

 

Buffy scooted back to get as close to him as possible. “We’re going to be okay.”

 

“Sure we are,” he responded, although he wasn’t terribly sure of that. “Anybody going to be looking for you?”

 

“No,” Buffy said, sighing as she shifted a little to get comfortable. With Spike’s arm a comforting weight over her, and his chest. a solid presence behind her, she felt sleep descend. “Don’t go anywhere.”

 

“Right here, luv,” Spike murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. He didn’t last much longer, the events of the day pulling him down as well. “Not going anywhere.”


	41. Chapter 41

**“…Happiness to me is wine,/Effervescent, superfine./Full of tang and fiery pleasure,/Far too hot to leave me leisure/For a single thought beyond it./Drunk! Forgetful! This the bond: it/Means to give one’s soul to gain/Life’s quintessence. Even pain/Pricks to the livelier living, then/Wakes the nerves to laugh again,/Rapture’s self is three parts sorrow./Although we must die to-morrow,/Losing every thought but this;/Torn, triumphant, drowned in bliss./Happiness: We rarely feel it./I would buy it, beg it, steal it,/Pay in coins of dripping blood/For this one transcendent good.” ~Amy Lowell, “Happiness”**

 

Spike was awake a couple of hours later, slipping out of bed as quietly as possible to avoid waking Buffy. He needed more blood of the human variety in order to be in any condition to fight, and the Slayer was going to need something to eat when she woke up. Even though Spike was a little fuzzy on the details, he knew that much.

 

This wasn’t the first time he’d had to administer first aid to a bite victim.

 

He was certainly feeling better, though. The pain was gone, as well as most of the trembling. It would be a few days before he was completely recovered, but he’d be capable of holding his own when they faced down the Mayor.

 

The first stop was the hospital to nick some blood. It wasn’t the first time Spike had stolen fresh blood rather than finding someone who would set aside the older stuff for him. He moved quickly and quietly, careful to be sure that he didn’t stay in one place for too long. The advantage of going at this time of the morning was that the night shift was starting to leave and the day shift was just coming on.

 

Spike waited until the nurse’s attention was on the novel she was reading before he slipped into the fridge where they kept the blood. He pocketed three bags and slipped out again, just as noiselessly, walking briskly towards the front door.

 

“You!”

 

The vampire kept walking, thinking that perhaps someone had seen him taking the blood. If he could make it to his car, he could make a quick getaway.

 

“Stop!”

 

Spike risked a look over his shoulder to see the Mayor, who looked absolutely livid. He kept walking, not wanting to risk a confrontation. As he reached the exit, the Mayor shouted after him. “She’ll pay for this! She is going to die a slow death, and I’m going to make sure you’re there to see it! You will suffer!”

 

Spike believed that he meant it.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy heard Spike’s voice above her head somewhere, sounding vaguely annoyed. “Look, we’ll be there soon as we can…I know. Of course I know…Told you she’ll be fine.” He was quiet then, and Buffy opened her eyes slowly.

 

Spike stood by his window, facing the drawn curtains, his head down and shoulders hunched. She put a hand up to touch the bandage on her neck, realizing that while the wound stung slightly it didn’t hurt much. Buffy knew that he’d been as careful as he could be under the circumstances.

 

She must have made enough noise for Spike to catch it with his sharp hearing. He turned to look at her. “Morning, luv.”

 

“Good morning.” Buffy glanced around. “What time is it?”

 

“Just past six,” Spike replied. “It’s early yet.”

 

“Who was that on the phone?”

 

“Rupert.” Spike wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I had to tell him what happened.”

 

“I wanted this, Spike,” Buffy reiterated. “I haven’t changed my mind.”

 

Spike sighed. “I never wanted to hurt you, Buffy.”

 

She sat up slowly. “Are you—is it going to cause a problem?”

 

“No. I haven’t—it’s not like I haven’t had human blood recently,” Spike replied. “I’ve got more control than most would have.”

 

“I know you do.”

 

“How are you?”

 

“I feel like I could sleep for a week,” she admitted. “You?”

 

“The same.” Spike gave her a rueful smile. “Probably be a few days before I’m in tip-top shape again.”

 

Buffy stood, testing out her legs. They were steady enough. “Well, I’ll be fine just as soon as I get some juice and cookies.” At Spike’s inquisitive look, she explained. “That’s what they always give you after you donate blood.”

 

“Don’t have cookies, but I’ve got juice,” Spike admitted. “Got some other stuff too. I’ll make you a decent breakfast, and then we’re supposed to meet the Watcher at the school.”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “You got food? When did you do that?”

 

“Before the sun came up, while you were still sleeping,” Spike replied. “Knew I’d have to fill you up with something before we faced the Mayor later on.” He didn’t tell her about going to the hospital, not wanting to explain why he was there. Maybe he would tell her later if it seemed important.

 

Buffy stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation for his half-hearted innuendo. “You’re a pig, Spike.”

 

He smiled, knowing that if Buffy was joking with him she was going to be okay. “Let’s get you fed, then.”

 

Buffy followed him out to the kitchen, noting that he still seemed a little shaky. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

Spike shook his head. “Honestly? It’s been a century since I’ve felt that helpless, and I didn’t like it.” His eyes flashed blue fire. “I never want to be in a position where I have to make a choice between your life and mine.”

 

“That wasn’t your choice,” Buffy replied. “I didn’t have to die, and neither did you. See? Everybody wins.”

 

“Until Rupert stakes me,” Spike mumbled.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Giles will not stake you, not when he sees that I’m fine. Everyone agreed that we needed you still, even Wesley.”

 

“I don’t want to do that again, Buffy,” Spike said quietly. “I don’t want—”

 

There was something in his tone that clued Buffy in to the fact that this wasn’t just about last night. This was also about Spike’s past rearing its ugly head again. “Faith won’t be shooting any more poisoned arrows,” she said. “So I don’t think we have to worry about it.”

 

Buffy frowned, remembering snippets of her dream. Faith had been there, but she couldn’t remember much more than that.

 

Well, she remembered how they might be able to stop the Mayor.

 

“What happened between you two?”

 

Buffy described their fight in as few words as possible. As far as she knew, Faith was dead or dying. She was certainly out of commission for the Ascension. Spike seemed to feel the same way. “You’d have had to deal with her one way or another,” he said philosophically. “Might as have been last night as today. We got a plan for the battle?”

 

Buffy nodded slowly. “I think so. I want to wait until everyone is together, though.” She started scarfing her breakfast. “I don’t think we have time for me to explain what I want to do twice.”

 

~~~~~

 

When Giles saw the pair walk into the library, he was slightly mollified by Buffy’s apparent good health and the deep circles under Spike’s eyes. Perhaps the vampire had taken enough to survive, but no more than that. He did notice that Spike wouldn’t meet his eyes.

 

“Where are the others, Giles?” Buffy asked.

 

“I called them,” he replied. “They should be on their way shortly. I sent Xander and Wesley home to get some rest.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

 

“Can I talk to you, Spike?”

 

Buffy sensed danger. “Giles, I don’t—”

 

“It’s okay, pet,” Spike said softly. “He’s got the right.” He followed the Watcher back to his office, not taking a seat until Giles offered it to him.

 

Giles regarded him steadily, finally asking, “Will you be alright?”

 

“I’ve fought under worse conditions,” Spike replied. “I’ll be fine. I’m not the important one.”

 

“Buffy would probably disagree with you,” Giles admitted. He wanted to be furious, but he couldn’t, not when Spike looked so unhappy with the situation. Not when Spike was so obviously ashamed of himself. “I imagine that’s probably why you’re sitting there.”

 

Spike glanced up. “I never would have done it, Rupert, given the choice. I just—”

 

“Yes, well, we both know how stubborn Buffy can be,” Giles finally said. “Why don’t we leave it at that?”

 

Spike gave him a relieved nod. “Ta.”

 

“Buffy’s attack on Faith made it on the radio this morning,” Giles said. “Apparently they brought a girl into the hospital late last night who matches her description.”

 

Spike frowned. “That right? She going to recover?”

 

“She’s in a coma at the moment. They’re still listing her condition as critical.” Giles pulled off his glassed, reaching for his handkerchief. “What are you thinking?”

 

Spike didn’t reply right away. “Dunno. Just seems like we might be able to use that somehow.” He was thinking about the Mayor’s rage. The man had been angrier than he would have thought reasonable for someone who had just lost his paid assassin. Now, if he’d lost his daughter…

 

Giles polished his lenses slowly, the habitual motion helping him think. “We’ll have to see what Buffy has to say,” he decided. “Perhaps there’s something there that we can use for leverage.”

 

“We’ll need something.” Spike’s face was lined and grim. “We’ll need everything we can get.”

 

~~~~~

 

“I know it’s crazy,” Buffy said. “But what do you guys think?”

 

Willow grimaced. “Well, crazy is such a _strong_ word.”

 

“Let’s not rule it out,” Giles cautioned.

 

“You don’t think it can be done?” the Slayer asked.

 

“I didn’t say that,” he hedged.

 

“Personally, I think it would be impossible to come up with a crazier plan,” Cordelia said.

 

Oz lifted an eyebrow. “We attack the Mayor with hummus.”

 

Cordelia looked down. “I stand corrected.”

 

“It’s insanity.” Spike’s voice cut across the others’. He’d kept mostly to the shadows, and there wasn’t a person in the room who hadn’t noticed that Spike was looking more like a corpse than he normally did. “You’re talking about taking a bunch of school kids and turning them into soldiers in a few hours’ time.”

 

Buffy noticeably deflated. “Spike—”

 

“That’s why it’s brilliant.” He tilted his head, giving her a wry smile. “The Mayor won’t be expecting it, and what he can’t anticipate, he can’t plan for.”

 

Giles nodded slowly in agreement. “That’s true.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “So is everyone with me?” As she got nods from everyone, Buffy looked over at Xander. “I’m going to need that military expertise, Xander. Do you still remember any of that?”

 

“Uh, hello?” he asked, pointing at her. “Rocket launcher?”

 

“Right. I want you and Spike to work together. Between the two of you, come up with a plan for dealing with the troops.” She glanced at Spike. “You up for it?”

 

“Anything you need,” he replied. “Although I might be a little challenged by the sunlight.”

 

Wesley spoke for the first time. “It won’t be a problem. From what we’ve determined, the sun will be completely blocked out.”

 

Giles shook his head. “Buffy, this is all dependent on your ability to control the Mayor. That’s rather a large order.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Faith told me to play on his human weakness.”

 

“His human weakness?” Giles asked.

 

“When was that?” Willow asked. “Before you guys fought?”

 

“After,” Buffy explained shortly. She shook her head. “That’s all I know. I thought—”

 

“Faith.”

 

All eyes turned to Spike. “What?” Buffy asked.

 

“Faith is his weakness,” Spike said. “I went by the hospital this morning, and he was there.”

 

Buffy frowned. “I thought you said you went to the store this morning.”

 

“I did,” Spike replied. “You’re not the only one who needed breakfast.”

 

Buffy decided to let that slide. “So the Mayor wasn’t happy about Faith, huh?”

 

“Try enraged,” Spike suggested.

 

Buffy nodded. “I can use that.”

 

“What about the rest of us?” Wesley asked. He’d been quiet and uncharacteristically subdued.

 

Buffy smiled. “Oh, I’ve got jobs for everyone.”

 

~~~~~

 

Mayor Wilkins had made an honest effort to put Faith out of his mind, but it wasn’t working. Even though he was walking his troops through the plans for later in the day, Faith’s broken body still occupied a significant corner of his mind.

 

He had wanted to protect her.

 

The Mayor hadn’t loved many people in his life. You didn’t get very far by having warm and fuzzy feelings for people in general. It made it too hard to do what needed to be done when, say, a ritual called for human sacrifice.

 

Faith, on the other hand, had been special. Bright, and vibrant, and so full of life. Under his tender care, she would have blossomed. He would have made certain of it.

 

Now, however, all he had left was the fragile hope that she would mend, and the sweet smell of revenge.

 

“You’ll come up through the sewers,” he said, pointing at the city plans. “I want containment. No one gets away. It’s crucial that I feed in the first few minutes to sustain the change.” He shook his finger at them. “No feeding. If I see blood on your lips, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

 

There was a pause as Mayor Wilkins waited for all of them to nod. “Oh, and one other thing.” He made sure he had their attention. “The Slayer—I want her alive. That vampire, too. I want them both alive. The person who brings them to me will be rewarded.” His eyes glittered. “Highly rewarded.”

 

~~~~~

 

What you could do with information from a couple books and supplies from the hardware store was amazing and not a little scary. In a couple of hours, Willow knew that she and Oz would manage to build a bomb big enough to blow up the school, and hopefully the big snake the Mayor was planning on turning into.

 

It was probably a really good thing she didn’t have any plans for world domination.

 

“Do you think Buffy’s going to be okay?” Willow asked as Oz scribbled down their shopping list.

 

He glanced up at her. “What?”

 

“Spike bit her, and she just seems—I don’t know.” Willow made a face. “Spike just seems a little off today.”

 

Oz paused in his writing long enough to consider it. “I get it,” he said after a moment.

 

Willow waited for him to explain, and when he didn’t right away, she asked, “You get what?”

 

“You try to keep the demon inside locked down.” Oz was suddenly completely serious, which surprised Willow. He had been cracking jokes for the last two days. It was his way of panicking, and suddenly he was serious. She knew that it wasn’t just Spike he was referring to, that Oz was talking about himself as well. “It gets out, though, and the people you never wanted to see that part of you suddenly get front row seats.”

 

Willow frowned. “But we know, Oz. We know that Spike’s a vampire.”

 

Oz shook his head. “It’s different.” When it looked like Willow was going to protest again, he laid his hand over hers. “Trust me. It is.”

 

“Of course I trust you.” Willow looked down at the shopping list. “We’d better get to that.”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” he replied. “You start rounding people up.”

 

Willow smiled at him. “Sure thing. I’ll see you later?”

 

“Count on it.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Heard what you did.”

 

Wesley nearly jumped out of his skin. He’d been a little too uncomfortable to pack books with Cordelia after their disastrous kiss and had moved to a different section. He had, in fact, been wallowing in self-pity, which was why he didn’t hear Spike coming.

 

Spike chuckled. He still enjoyed winding the Watcher up. “Alright there, Wesley?”

 

“I’m fine,” Wesley squeaked, then cleared his throat. “What were you saying?”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I heard you went to bat for me with the Council.”

 

Wesley shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “I didn’t do that much. I simply let them know that it wasn’t a good idea to disagree with the Slayer when she had her mind set on something.”

 

“That’s still something,” Spike responded. “I won’t forget it.”

 

Wesley blinked. Spike’s statement sounded more like a threat than a promise. “Um, okay?”

 

Spike chuckled again and clapped the Watcher on the arm. “Told you I’d keep you alive long enough to get that stick out of your arse, didn’t I? Figure we’re about halfway there.”

 

“I, uh, believe I’m going back to England after this,” Wesley replied. “Although I do appreciate the offer.”

 

Spike snorted, then gave Wesley a rather cynical look. “You let me know how that works out for you.”

 

Spike walked away, and Wesley couldn’t help but think that he knew the truth. The truth was that if the Council fired him as they’d threatened to do, he’d have enough in his savings to fly back to England, but no more than that. There was no one there who would offer him a place to stay; his parents certainly wouldn’t, and he hadn’t kept in touch with school friends.

 

Wesley told people he was going back to England because he wasn’t sure what other lie to tell, and he was still hopeful that this would all work out. Perhaps if Buffy managed to stop the Ascension, the Council would see that the Slayer hadn’t made a mistake, and neither had he.

 

He never claimed that it wasn’t a foolish hope.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy stared down at the knife. It was a beautiful weapon, in a really scary way. The craftsmanship spoke of a person who probably liked knives just a little too much, while the dried blood pointed to the fact that it had been used.

 

She had used it.

 

Buffy wondered if she and Spike were going to be okay. He hadn’t been happy about her asking him to drink, but he hadn’t been able to say no either. She didn’t regret it for a moment. Buffy knew how badly she needed him, and not just for this battle.

 

“Here.” A brown paper sack hit the desk. “You need to eat.”

 

Buffy glanced up to see Spike. He dropped down into the chair next to the desk. “Spike, I don’t have time.”

 

“Yes, you do. You’ve got an hour, which is more than enough time.” His expression was impossible to read. “You’ll need your strength for what you’re planning.”

 

“What about you?” Buffy objected. “You’ve got a key role, mister.”

 

Spike pointed to the bag. “Talk and eat,” he ordered. “And that trip to the hospital should keep me for a while. Don’t worry about me.”

 

“I’ll worry about you if I want,” she retorted, taking a big bite out of the sandwich. She wasn’t sure what was on it, but it was good. “Talk to me?”

 

Spike watched her eat, waiting to respond until he was sure she was going to manage to get at least half the sandwich down her. Someone had to look out for the girl; everyone else was too busy, and he was all-too-aware that she’d lost a bit of blood. “About what?”

 

“You know about what.” Anger and fear warred within her, and fear won out. There was no way Buffy was leaving things like this before they faced the Mayor. If something happened to one of them—

 

Spike seemed to read her like a book, as usual. “We’re okay, Buffy,” he assured her. “Told you that earlier. I’m not going to do a runner on you.”

 

“Then can you tell me why I’m getting that vibe? Because you’re very vibe-y.”

 

“Bad memories, is all,” Spike said.

 

“From Angel?”

 

“Angelus,” he corrected her. “And, yeah. I’m a selfish bastard, Buffy. This wasn’t the first time I chose to save my own hide over saving someone else.”

 

Buffy gave him an exasperated sigh. “How many times do I have to say it? There was no expense! I’m fine, you’re fine—”

 

“I bit you,” he said stubbornly. “You don’t do that to the girl you love.”

 

“In what universe?” she demanded. “If you hadn’t bit me, I would have cut my wrist and made you drink that way.”

 

Spike stared at her. “Buffy, you don’t—”

 

“Don’t you dare tell me I don’t understand!” she hissed at him. “Let me guess. Angelus made you drink from somebody.” The look on his face—a mixture of shame and surprise—told her that she was right on the mark.

 

Buffy could be perceptive when she wanted to be.

 

“So you had to drink in order to save your own life, and you feel bad,” Buffy said. “Well, I went and nearly gutted Faith to save you, so don’t think that I’m not willing to go all the way to make sure you’re okay. I would have dragged her body back and made sure you drained every drop, so don’t tell me I don’t know about morally ambiguous choices.”

 

“Big word, pet,” Spike said, a smile beginning to tease the corners of his lips.

 

She smacked him on the arm. “Stop that.”

 

“As you wish.” When it looked like Buffy might punch him in the nose, Spike grabbed her hand. “Give me some time, Buffy. I’ve looked after myself for nearly a century. Having someone concerned for my welfare—it’s going to take some getting used to.”

 

Buffy mock-scowled at him. “Well, get used to it.”

 

“Yes, General.”

 

Their eyes met and locked, and then as one they turned to look at the clock. “I wish we had more time,” Buffy whispered. She needed to be out there, making sure everything was a go. Spike needed to get into place.

 

There was no more time.

 

“I’ll see you later,” Spike said firmly, as though he didn’t have a doubt that they would be just fine.

 

Buffy managed a smile for him. “Absolutely.”

 

They wouldn’t allow themselves to contemplate doing anything else.


	42. Chapter 42

**“When our two souls stand up erect and strong,/Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,/Until the lengthening wings break into fire/At either curved point,—what bitter wrong/Can the earth do to us, that we should not long be here contented?/Think. In mounting higher,/The angels would press on us and aspire/To drop some golden orb of perfect song/Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay/Rather on earth, Beloved,—where the unfit/Contrarious moods of men recoil away/And isolate pure spirits, and permit/A place to stand and love in for a day,/With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.” ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “Sonnet 22”**

 

It was chaos from the moment the sun was blocked out. Xander’s prior experience on the front lines served him well, since he was able to rally the troops, calling out orders like a seasoned general.

 

Xander was the one who was in charge of most of the students, although he and Spike had worked out who Spike was going to take to block off the vampires’ retreat. The idea was to make sure that no one escaped so they didn’t have to worry about doing clean-up all summer.

 

Of course, he and Xander had to have a heart to heart before they could get down to business.

 

“You bit her.”

 

“Yeah, so what?” Just because Spike was feeling a little guilty about that fact didn’t mean he was going to divulge that information to Harris. “It’s between me and Buffy.”

 

Their planning was about as last-minute as you could get, and Spike really wanted to get through it so they could get the troops into place. Xander wasn’t going to let it go, however. “You could have killed her.”

 

“Yes, I could have.” Spike spoke precisely, his words clipped. “I could have killed her just about any time since I got to Sunnydale if that’s what I wanted. But it’s not what I want, so can we focus on the problem at hand?”

 

Xander opened his mouth to argue, and then decided that it wasn’t worth it. “Fine. But if you hurt her, I will kill you.” He paused. “Or I’ll wait until you’re sleeping and set you on fire. That would work too.”

 

“That it would,” Spike admitted, impressed with Xander’s bravado in spite of himself. “Look, it’s none of your business what Buffy and I do, but I’m not going to hurt her.”

 

Xander grimaced. He could forget that Spike was a vampire most of the time, at least until he did something like biting Buffy. “Fine. Let’s get down to it.”

 

Spike had actually been fairly impressed by Xander’s ability with strategy. Although he’d made a few suggestions, he mostly left it up to the boy once he figured that that Harris was competent. In the end, it hadn’t been hard to decide which students would be in Spike’s group. Since it was largely going to be hand-to-hand combat, Spike took the bigger, more athletic teens. Xander’s group was going to be armed with flamethrowers and bows, long-distance weapons just as suited to the smaller and weaker as the larger and stronger.

 

As soon as the sun was hidden, Spike and Wesley hurried to join the students facing off with the Mayor’s vampires. Spike was in his element. In spite of the lingering weakness from the poison, he held his own, keeping a sharp eye out for children who were in trouble.

 

Spike included Wesley in with the children.

 

Idly, he wondered who had taught the man to fight. There was some skill there, but Wesley was a complete klutz. Spike managed to keep him from being clotheslined by shoving him down, staking the vampire that had tried the move. Spike handed Wesley the stake and hauled him back up to his feet. “Watch it,” he warned. “You get mowed down in this mess, and there’s a good chance you won’t get up again.”

 

“Thanks,” Wesley gulped.

 

Spike nodded. “Stick close.”

 

Spike assumed that Wesley tried to do just that, but the next wave of vampires pulled them away from each other. He didn’t see the man after that, and he just hoped that Wesley would manage to actually use some of those hand-to-hand skills he liked boasting about so much.

 

Mostly, he found himself lost in the sounds and smells of the battle. He could hear the cries of the wounded, and Spike knew that there would be more than a few dead at the end of this. He caught glimpses of the giant snake the Mayor had become, could hear Xander calling out orders to his troops above the clamor. Spike’s job was to dust as many vampires as possible while keeping as many children alive as he could.

 

Spike always had been good at his job.

 

When the last stragglers were either dusted or fled, Spike took the steps to the school at a run, just in time to see the tail end of the Mayor disappear inside the doors. “Spike! Get back!” Xander warned him, running down the steps. “It’s going up any second!”

 

Spike played rear guard, watching to be sure there weren’t any remaining vampires waiting for a chance to slip away before he could put a stake into them. Spike was still facing the school when the explosion went off, and he put his arm up to shield his eyes. He looked around for Buffy, not seeing her.

 

“She’s with Giles,” Xander said, standing at his side. “They were meeting on the other side of the school, remember?”

 

Spike turned to look at the boy and the last of the battle madness dissipated, leaving him worn and weary. He supposed it was probably a lot like a human coming down from an adrenaline rush. “Yeah, right. How are you?”

 

“Good, I guess.” Xander’s eyes were shadowed as he surveyed the destruction. “Can’t say I’m sorry to see the school blown up, but—”

 

Spike understood. People had died, people whom Xander had been in charge of. “Yeah. There aren’t really any kinds of losses that are acceptable, are there?”

 

“No, there really aren’t.” Xander turned to watch the ambulances pull up. “I guess that’s our cue that it’s over.”

 

They turned as one to find the others. Willow and Oz were standing off to the side, hanging on to each other for dear life. They were unscathed, as was Cordelia, who had a streak of soot across one cheek.

 

Buffy and Giles emerged from the crowd a moment later, and they all moved away from the confusion. Spike caught sight of Wesley being loaded into an ambulance, whimpering, and he sighed. It seemed that the Watcher had a very long way to go yet.

 

“Hey,” Buffy said.

 

Spike put an arm around her shoulders. “Take it the whole thing worked.”

 

“Like a charm,” she replied. “Giles did a very good job with the button-pushing, too.”

 

Giles managed to look properly modest. “It really was nothing.” He glanced towards the ambulances. “I should check on Wesley,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile. “I think Spike’s babysat him for long enough today.”

 

“Ta, mate,” Spike said with a smirk, then followed Buffy to join the others, who were gathered around a stone bench across the street from the campus.

 

Cordelia watched the flames lick the sky. “Well, that was the most fun you can have without having any fun.”

 

“I don’t know,” Willow said. “I liked the part where we kicked some demon ass.” She smiled up at Oz as he stroked her hair fondly. She had sprawled on the stone bench, feeling a little sore, although that wasn’t necessarily from the fight.

 

Buffy leaned back against Spike’s solid form. “Could you maybe wake me up when it’s time to go to college?”

 

“Guys, take a minute,” Oz said. “We survived.”

 

“It was a hell of a battle,” Buffy agreed, thinking of watching the giant snake eat a student—and Snyder.

 

Although watching the Mayor eat Snyder had been kind of fun.

 

“No, high school,” Oz pointed out. “We’re taking a moment.” There was a long pause and then Willow got up, just as Spike and Buffy turned from the wreckage. “And we’re done.”

 

“Anybody want a ride somewhere?” Spike offered.

 

Cordelia shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I’m not too far away.”

 

“I’ll walk you back,” Xander offered, falling into step beside her.

 

Willow leaned against Oz. “We’ve got the van.”

 

“We’ll see you two later,” Oz offered. “Dingoes are playing at the Bronze in a few days.”

 

“I think I’ll be ready to celebrate then,” Buffy agreed, watching them leave. “Spike, is it just me or—”

 

“It’s not just you,” he replied. Spike knew exactly what she was asking. “You tend to seize the moment in the face of imminent disaster.”

 

Buffy didn’t loosen her grip. “Yeah, that’s true.”

 

They walked back to Spike’s car, their hands linked. “You’ll want to call your mom,” Spike said.

 

Buffy sighed. “Yeah, I should. She’ll kill me if I make her worry for any longer than necessary.”

 

Spike reached into his jacket pocket and handed her his cell phone, listening idly as she assured her mom that everyone was fine. “When do you think you’ll be home?”

 

The vampire’s acute hearing picked up Joyce’s response easily. “Oh, I think I’ll head back tonight, sweetheart. What do you want for dinner? I’ll pick something up, and you can ask Spike over too.”

 

Buffy did not sigh or roll her eyes, although she wanted to do both. “Anything is good, Mom. I’ll see you when you get in.” She said her goodbyes and then handed Spike his phone. “You okay with that?”

 

Spike shrugged. “It’s all the same to me. You want me to drop you off at home? I can come over later when I’ve cleaned up a bit.”

 

Buffy nodded. “That’s fine. I don’t think I would have been capable of anything tonight.”

 

“I’ll pick up a movie or something,” Spike offered. “Something light.”

 

She gave him a grateful smile. “That would be perfect.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy revived a little under the spray of the shower. She decided that Spike could deal with her being a slob and put on her favorite pajamas. Joyce’s arrival—complete with Italian take-out—revived her even more. In some ways, it reminded Buffy of the days when she was little and would come home from school full of news at the end of the day.

 

That was before the divorce, when Joyce wasn’t working all the time. Before Buffy became the Slayer. Of course, these days, she could tell her mom what had happened at school again since she knew all about the Slayer business.

 

Buffy would have liked to gloss over the whole biting business, but there really wasn’t any way to hide the wound on her neck without making Joyce even more suspicious.

 

“Spike bit you?”

 

“I pretty much forced him, Mom,” Buffy said quickly, not wanting Spike to face Joyce’s wrath when he came over. “It was either that or Spike dying, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

 

Joyce sighed. “Well, I suppose I just have to be grateful that you’re both okay. This isn’t going to be a regular thing, though, is it?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, Mom. It was definitely due to extenuating circumstances.”

 

A knock came at the back door, and Buffy got up to let Spike in. “Saw the lights around back,” he explained as he entered. “Hullo, Joyce.”

 

“Sit down, Spike. Are you hungry?” she asked. “Or would you like something to drink?”

 

He shook his head, sitting down wearily at the table. “Don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

 

“It’s no trouble,” she assured him. Joyce looked at the bag. “What did you get?”

 

“Classics,” Spike explained, pulling out a few videos.

 

Joyce smiled as she read the titles. “ _Arsenic and Lace, The African Queen,_ and _That Touch of Mink_? I didn’t realize that you were such a fan of old movies, Spike.”

 

He shrugged. “Knew you and Buffy liked them, and I don’t mind. I saw them when they originally came out and enjoyed them then.”

 

Buffy did enjoy the old movies, but her mom was the real fan, and she had the feeling that Spike knew that. Of course, it was probably a good idea on his part to butter Joyce up a bit, especially since Buffy planned on spending every moment she could with him this summer.

 

That would be a lot easier with her mom completely on board with the situation.

 

Joyce set Spike’s hot chocolate down in front of him and then plopped the bag of miniature marshmallows beside it. “Help yourself,” she encouraged. “And then I want to hear your side of the story. Buffy has been telling me about luring the Mayor in through the school, but she said you were somewhere else?”

 

“Keeping the vampires off her back,” Spike admitted, glancing over at Buffy to see if she was okay with him continuing the story. She nodded. “Isn’t much to tell, really. I dusted a bunch of them, tried to make sure no one got snacked on.” His eyes were shadowed. “Don’t think I kept all of them safe.”

 

Buffy laid a hand on his arm. “We did better than we would have without you.”

 

“Right,” Spike said, his voice sounding hoarse. “Guess you did.” He frowned. “I’m not sure why the Powers That Screw With You thought you needed me though. You lot would have done fine on your own.”

 

“Maybe that’s not why they thought Buffy needed you,” Joyce said gently. She smiled as Spike raised startled blue eyes. His hair was curly and still damp from the shower. The blue t-shirt he wore brought out his eyes and pale skin.

 

Spike had changed since coming to Sunnydale. Maybe it took a mother to see it, but Joyce noticed. His eyes weren’t quite so crowded with memories these days. He smiled more. He made Buffy happier than she’d been since she had been called.

 

There were things Joyce was willing to overlook for that reason alone. “You know,” she said. “I think I’ll call Rupert to see if he isn’t too tired to join us. Would you mind, Buffy?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, you should do that, Mom.” She waited until Joyce had left the kitchen before asking, “How are you really?”

 

“I’m good, pet. Couple of days, I’ll be just fine.”

 

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Good. I might actually be up and awake by then.”

 

“It’s a date,” he said softly.

 

Buffy breathed in the clean, sharp smell of him. “I’ll hold you to that.”

 

~~~~~

 

Giles was rather surprised when he managed to make it through the first movie and neither Buffy nor Spike did. As the credits for _The African Queen_ rolled, he rose to his feet, holding out a hand to Joyce, leaving a sleeping Slayer and vampire leaning against each other on the couch.

 

He knew where her tea things were now, and he’d convinced her to switch to brewed, rather than bagged. Giles had taught her how to make a proper cuppa in this very kitchen.

 

In fact, Buffy would probably be rather mortified if she knew what else they’d done in this very kitchen.

 

“I guess we’re not so old after all,” Joyce said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

 

Giles put his hands over hers. “No, I suppose we’re not. They’ve both had a rather trying couple of days, however.”

 

“So I gathered.” Joyce sighed. “I’m glad you’re all okay. This thing, though, with Spike biting Buffy. Is that—normal?”

 

“You’re asking if it will happen again,” Giles stated. “I don’t know the answer to that for certain, but I don’t believe that it will. Spike—isn’t like other vampires, and he wasn’t happy about what happened.” He was quiet for a moment. “I dare say this next year will prove quite interesting.”

 

Joyce never thought that she would be hoping for her daughter to work out a relationship with a vampire, but in this case she was. She thought Spike might be exactly what Buffy needed. Besides, he still needed quite a bit of mothering, and Buffy so rarely indulged her anymore. “I imagine it probably will,” she admitted, thinking of the changes that were bound to come.

 

Giles turned in her arms. “I know I can’t stay here tonight, but perhaps you’d like to come back to my place?”

 

Joyce felt her face heat up in light of Giles’ naked desire. He made her feel sixteen again; it was exhilarating.

 

“I thought you’d be too tired.”

 

“For you?” Giles asked with a lifted eyebrow, just a little bit of Ripper showing through. “I’m never too tired.”

 

“Then let’s go,” Joyce replied, suddenly longing to touch him. Giles seemed the only thing that wasn’t changing.

 

It had been a long time since she’d had someone to cling to. Joyce didn’t plan on letting him go anytime soon.

 

~~~~~

 

Her parents had apologized for missing graduation, of course, and then they’d offered to get her a new laptop for school in the fall. It was probably just as well. Willow wasn’t sure how she would have explained the flamethrowers, let alone the giant snake.

 

There was something to be said for parental indifference.

 

The best part was that Oz could stay the night without worrying about someone walking in on them. Not that she was quite up to having sex again. She was still just a little sore, and really, really tired. She could completely understand Buffy’s desire to sleep for weeks on end.

 

It was just easier to sleep next to Oz’s warm body, their arms and legs tangled. Next to him, listening to his even breathing, Willow could believe that the whole world was open before them. That the future was bright.

 

College would be starting soon—Willow had been looking forward to that step for years now. It would be new and challenging, and oh, so exciting.

 

But, at the same time, it was a little scary. For the first time since kindergarten, Willow would be going somewhere without Xander. Even if Buffy and Oz would be there, it wouldn’t be the same.

 

Blowing up the school was just a reminder of that fact. Nothing would ever be the same again.

 

Willow shivered involuntarily, and she felt Oz’s arm tighten around her. “Will? You okay?”

 

“Just thinking,” she replied, burrowing further down under the covers. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

 

Oz stroked her back in a soothing motion. “That brain of yours never stops going, does it?”

 

“I don’t think I came with an off-switch,” she joked in return.

 

“You want to tell me about it?” he asked.

 

Willow hesitated and then shook her head. It didn’t really matter anyway. After all, Oz was here and solid. He wasn’t going anywhere. As long as she had one immutable thing in her life, that would be enough. “It’s not a big deal.” She laid her head back down on his chest and closed her eyes.

 

“Go to sleep,” Oz said quietly, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I’ll be right here.”

 

~~~~~

 

Wesley winced as he pulled his shirt on. He had apparently managed to both strain his back and crack a couple of ribs, although he was fairly sure that had happened when someone stepped on him.

 

Spike _had_ warned him.

 

He had no idea where he was supposed to go from here. The doctors had given him some painkillers, but he couldn’t stay in hospital. When Wesley had called the Council to give them the news of the Mayor’s demise, they had informed him that he was fired, effective immediately. In fact, he’d made such a mess of things, they weren’t even going to fund a trip home, nor were they giving him any more in the way of severance other than paying for his hospital bill. Provided he left immediately.

 

Wesley knew that his apartment was paid through the end of the month, and he had a little in the way of savings. It would be enough to—

 

To what? What did an ex-Watcher do if he didn’t have an already-existing job, such as Giles had had? It wasn’t like any of _them_ were going to offer him a helping hand.

 

It wasn’t as though he could ask.

 

“Mind if I come in?”

 

“I didn’t think you’d need an invitation to a hospital room,” Wesley commented, turning slowly to face the vampire. “What are you doing here?”

 

Spike was looking at him with some interest. “How’s the back?”

 

“Sore, but I think I’ll live. What are you doing here, Spike?”

 

Spike might have been offended by the tone of Wesley’s voice, but he already knew the man was a git. Pain and uncertainty tended to make a person even more of a problem to deal with. “I finally got caught up with Rupert today,” Spike said. “I wanted to ask him a few questions. He told me you’d been fired.”

 

Wesley managed to look as though he didn’t care. “Yes, well, it’ll give me a chance to explore some new options.”

 

“Huh,” Spike said, leaning against the doorjamb. “Too bad you’re talking to a vampire, mate. We’re not easy to lie to.”

 

Wesley frowned. “What do you want?”

 

“You, actually.”

 

Wesley blinked. “What on earth are you talking about?”

 

“I’m starting up my business again,” Spike said. “This saving the world thing is kind of fun, but as far as I can tell it only happens once or twice a year. My job here is done. Time to go back to work.”

 

“You’re leaving Sunnydale?” Wesley asked in surprise. “I thought you and Buffy—”

 

Spike waved a hand indolently. “We’re good. No, I like it here. Usually I move around, you know, but people find me. I have a reputation. Once I let it be known that Sunnydale is my new headquarters, this is where they’ll come.” Spike grinned, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Of course, I’m not hurting for dosh, so I can afford to be choosy about the jobs I do take.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Wesley objected. “If you’re staying for work, what would you want me for?”

 

“Thing is, mate, I don’t like research,” Spike said conversationally. “I’ve done this job on my own before, and it works alright. Mostly I was moving around too much to have any reliable help.”

 

Wesley sat down on the bed, still trying to figure out exactly what Spike was saying. “You want me to stay and work with you?”

 

“I get paid fairly well,” Spike said. “You probably won’t get rich, but it’ll be fun.”

 

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “If you’re talking about the kind of ‘fun’ we had the other day, I’m not sure that’s a selling point.”

 

Spike grinned at him. “Oh, come on. It was exhilarating. Fists and fangs and sod all else.”

 

“Yes, well, be that as it may, why would you want me?” Wesley asked bluntly. “Why not ask Mr. Giles?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Because Rupert is, and always will be, Buffy’s Watcher. Besides, he thinks he wants to take the next year off to be a man of leisure. Says he’s looking forward to it.” He snorted. “I give him a month, two on the outside, before he starts getting bored. You, on the other hand, probably need the money.”

 

“I still don’t know why you’d want me,” Wesley said. “You all have thought of me as rather useless I dare say.”

 

Spike tilted his head. “Well, you have been rather useless. On the other hand, you’ve got the potential to be a truly decent sort.”

 

“Why would you care?” Wesley asked, sounding defiant and angry. “I don’t need your pity.”

 

“No?” Spike asked softly. “I could have used something like that once upon a time.” He took a deep breath. “What I’m about to tell you goes no further than this room, you understand?” When Wesley nodded, Spike gave him a tight smile. “Before I was turned, I was a lot like you. Decent bloke, bit of a prig, fairly worthless when it came to a fight. That changed when I met Drusilla in the back of a stable. She changed my life, and there are days when I wonder if it was for the better.”

 

“But most days?”

 

“Most days I wouldn’t trade what I’ve got for the world. Not now,” Spike added cryptically. “I’m offering you a choice—more of one than I got. You have a chance to earn a regular paycheck and learn a bit while you’re doing it. Won’t always ask you in for the fight, but I might need the muscle sometimes. Or you can go back to your regularly scheduled life, try and scrape by on your own. Up to you.”

 

Wesley swallowed, overcome. “What if I say no?”

 

“Then I’ll offer you a ride back to your flat and we won’t mention this conversation again,” Spike replied easily. “You won’t hurt my feelings.”

 

Wesley was quiet for a long moment. “What will the others say?”

 

“This isn’t about the others,” Spike replied. “This is between you and me.”

 

Wesley didn’t have any other prospects. Given a little time, he might be able to figure something out, but this might give him the time to make a decision, get something better. “What if it doesn’t work?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Then it doesn’t work. We’ll figure something out. I won’t leave you high and dry, Wes. I have a gut instinct about this, and I always go with my gut.”

 

Wesley stared at the floor, and then at Spike, taking a deep breath. He had a chance to work with a piece of living history. In fact, he might even be able to make history. “I’ll do it.”

 

Spike gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Glad to have you on board, mate.” Then, with a smirk, he added. “Besides, I did tell you I was going to keep you alive long enough to pull that stick out of your arse.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Wesley?” Buffy asked in disbelief. “You asked Wesley to be your partner?”

 

“Not partner,” Spike corrected her. “Assistant. Poor bloke was let go by the Council. It was the only thing he’d known. Wesley’s like a fish out of water.”

 

“But why would you want to keep him around?” Buffy asked. “He’s worthless.”

 

Spike shook his head. “So were we all once, luv. People change.”

 

Buffy frowned. “But it’s Wesley,” she objected. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to start your business again? I thought you were going to stick around.”

 

“I am,” Spike said patiently. “I’m staying in Sunnydale, although I may have to do some traveling. I need something to keep me busy. Saving the world is not a full time job.”

 

“You could have fooled me,” Buffy muttered. She lay back down on the bed, too tired to protest more vociferously. She had the feeling Spike had planned things this way. He’d gained major brownie points with a nice dinner, which led naturally into their love-making. His clever hands and mouth had made her a very happy Slayer indeed.

 

That’s when he’d sprung the news on her.

 

“You’re a student, Buffy,” he reminded her. “You’ve got friends and family. You’re still my first priority, but I need something else to occupy my time. I get bored easily.”

 

“That makes me feel really good,” she huffed.

 

Spike rolled his eyes. “Not you, you silly bint, but I’ve been working for a century or more. It’s not in my nature to give it up, especially now that my job is done.”

 

“Does that mean you’re going to want to leave?” she asked. “I mean, I would understand, Spike. It probably sucks to be stuck in Sunnydale when you could go anywhere, and I—”

 

He cut her off with a kiss. “Bite your tongue, Summers. Best thing that ever happened to me was coming here. Could say the same for you. This summer, you’ll be off to the beach with your mates, and I’ll be stuck at home. Maybe you want someone who can walk in the sun with you, to grow old with.”

 

“I want you,” Buffy shot back.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Well? Same goes for me. Just because a man has a job doesn’t mean he won’t look forward to coming home to his girl.” Spike touched her cheek gently. “You _are_ my girl, aren’t you?”

 

“Always,” Buffy replied. “I’ll always be your girl.”

 

Spike kissed her again. He couldn’t get enough of this—this feeling of belonging, of coming home, of love. He’d never thought to have any of that again. Spike fell back against the pillows, Buffy on top of him, and he reveled in the ability to simply be with her. To hold her. To know that he’d found his avocation.

 

Spike held her in his arms.

 

Buffy kissed his neck, his collar bone, her hands wandering. Spike was right. They both had their jobs, their duties, their destinies, but they also had each other. There was no way she was letting him go, and he seemed to be hanging on just as tightly.

 

 “I love you,” she whispered into his skin, hearing his hoarse reply, half-incoherent with need.

 

Then they were lost—in each other, in the moment, in their love. It was enough, and it was perfect.


End file.
